Old Friend, Old Enemy
by springburn
Summary: The Doctor and Clara's adventures continue from All Our Tomorrow's. Who frowned this face? Questions still need answering, are there others with The Doctors face? Can The Doctor and Clara solve the mystery...
1. Chapter 1

The Doctor and Clara have sent Malcolm Tucker back to his appointed place and time. Now it is their task to search for the Time Anomalies and hunt for the perpetrators, it is their next big adventure...

This story continues directly from All Our Tomorrow's. It draws on the Torchwood story, The Children of Earth.

(This particular story is a toughie for me, for two reasons...I found the whole concept of taking the children and the cold, calculated way the Government dealt with that, very disturbing. The character of John Frobisher was also hard for me to reconcile myself with. Peter played him with his usual consummate skill, but some of his scenes were very distressing, particularly when he screams at his own chanting children...I cannot watch it, I have to fast forward! )

I will explain other aspects of the story as it unfolds.

I am writing in scene form again as I did with the last story, as is it a format that suits my style.

The first scenes by way of an introduction.

I hope you enjoy it as much as you've told me you liked the previous one.

I estimate there will be 15 or so chapters, maybe more, depending on drafting.

OLD FRIEND, OLD ENEMY.

 **Scene 1**

Several days had passed since The Doctor and Clara had returned Malcolm to his appointed place and time.

The Doctor had been occupied with the time anomalies. Attempting to follow the trail backwards to the point of origin.

So far he had failed miserably.

He was very frustrated.

"No luck?" Clara hardly dared ask.

His reply was a scowl, from underneath those fearsome eyebrows.

"Imagine trying to find one particular grain of sand...on a beach." He huffed.

"That's how difficult it is."

Clara frowned, and came behind him, threading her arms around his middle, and laying her head against his back. She loved the curve of his shoulder blades. How tall he was. The scent of him.

She sighed against the fabric of his coat.

"Maybe it's like when people try desperately to have a baby, and are unsuccessful, then they give up trying...and it just happens...maybe you should just stop looking."

"Humph!" He scoffed.

He turned himself in her embrace, until he was facing her.

"Or maybe I'm going about it in entirely the wrong way."

Suddenly a puff of smoke and sparks erupted just behind him. Throwing him forwards, almost knocking Clara flying.

"Ye God's! " He cried, "now what?"

An acrid smell of burning wires reached their nostrils.

After half an hour of examination, where she again could only see the soles of his boots, as he lay on his back underneath the offending panel, he emerged.

His face a thundercloud.

"Drat it!"

"What's happened?" She enquired, " I assume something's blown?"

"You could say that," he replied, wiping his blackened fingers on a towel.

"I'm going to have to switch off all the guidance and safety systems."

"Is that wise?" Clara arched a brow.

"Well, it's either that, or risk the Tardis being permanently out of action. I can't understand it...and I hate that...it's like the Old Girl's playing me up on purpose."

He flung the towel aside.

"Well, Doctor...dare I say it? But what could possibly go wrong?!"

He glowered at her, and moved around the console panels, flicking switches to 'off'.

The Tardis seemed to sigh around them, as if grateful for the respite, lights dimming, the hum of her heartbeat stilling.

"We'll just have to float here, in stasis, while she sorts herself out and reboots."

He huffed again, hands on his hips.

"I shall be bored, it could take as long as a couple of days."

Clara moved closer to him again,

"I can think of one or two things we could do...to keep you occupied..."

She smiled seductively, as she watched his pupils dilate.

He licked his lips unconsciously.

A tearing sound, ripped through and around them at that moment.

The Tardis groaned and lurched, and pitched forwards, throwing them both together.

"What the...?"

"Doctor...what's happening?"

"It appears we are travelling...fast..." He cried, frantically pressing buttons.

"Where are we going...?"

"No idea!...isn't it exciting?"

 **Scene 2**

 _Flashback:_

JohnFrobisher, Permanent Secretary to the Home Office, had more than enough of this day. He was very glad it was over.

Packing his briefcase, he closed down his computer.

Reaching for his jacket, and searching the pockets for his mobile, keys, wallet, he prepared to leave.

He pressed the intercom. His PA, Bridget Spears, answered.

"Send the car round please Bridget."

"Right away, Sir."

Minutes later he was on the road.

The sleek black Mercedes swept along. John stared, unseeing, out of the window, as the world raced by.

What was he doing here? Where had it all gone wrong?

He'd worked so hard. Kept his head down. He was a good man...wasn't he?

A good and loving husband and father. Almost.

A small cog, in a big wheel.

Now, suddenly he was being asked to do things he was not comfortable with.

Things that didn't sit well.

Worse still, he had the feeling the powers that be were not being entirely honest with him.

Not telling him the whole story.

He was making informed decisions...without really being informed.

He'd read the 1965 file. Such as it was. All highly classified.

There wasn't much there.

He'd been asked to call for a blanket assassination, of all involved. But he only knew half the story, of that he was sure.

He felt sick.

These people had lives, families...like himself. Who was he to say who should live and who should die?

Home. His oasis.

He kissed his wife, hugged his girls.

She was busy preparing dinner. They, at the kitchen table doing their homework.

Domestic haven...and out there...out there people were in fear.

Wandering through to his study, he closed the door behind him.

Poured himself a large Scotch.

Sat at his desk, and took out his papers. He would work for an hour before dinner.

In the background he could hear the voices of his family. Laughing, talking. Blissfully unaware of what their beloved spouse and Dad, had done that day.

He took a slug of the amber liquid, let it burn his throat before swallowing. He wished he could get completely smashed...numb it all away.

But he couldn't, he had to stay in control.

There was one more kill yet to be organised, the most difficult and the most important.

The one person who could bring the whole house of cards crashing down.

Captain Jack Harkness.


	2. Chapter 2

The Tardis seems to have her own ideas about searching for answers...

In this chapter I envisaged the space bar where David Tennant's Doctor found Jack, and introduced him to Alonso, just before his regeneration...with a few of my own embellishments...

 **Scene 3**

The Tardis landed with a rather undignified thump. Throwing both Clara and The Doctor to the floor.

"Where are we?" She asked, dusting herself off.

The Timelord, stood, stiffly and moved to the monitor.

"Well, it appears to be a space bar, on Olsen Three. Which is part of the Crab Nebula." He replied. Peering at the screen.

"Has the Tardis bought us here...or some other force?"

"I think it's The Old Girl, but I'm not sure why. She seems to have her own agenda.

Perhaps we should find out?"

Together, they headed for the door.

Everywhere was deserted, the Tardis had landed in a quiet corridor at the back of the complex. Conveniently out of the way.

Coloured lights thrummed and techno music played jarringly in the background. The vast open viewing platform, to one side, gave a vista of the nebula itself.

Stars were being born, before your very eyes.

The place was crowded, with all manner of beings; some silurians, a couple who were completely blue. A strange looking fishlike creature with spikes on its head and numerous others.

The Doctor, taking Clara's hand, weaved through the crowd, his eyes scanning the clientele.

Then he stopped abruptly.

On a bar stool, apparently chatting up a tall cat lady, was a male humanoid.

He was handsome, tall, and wore what looked like an RAF greatcoat from Earth's World War Two.

The Doctor came to his side.

"Hello Jack." He said.

The man turned, at the sound, his eyes travelling slowly across the Timelord's face, confusion seemed to gradually change to recognition...

"You?..." He said.

Several things then happened all at once.

'Jack' bought back a fist and socked the Doctor hard in the face, with a fine right hook.

Knocking him completely backwards. In seconds he was astride his chest. Hands locked around his throat, squeezing tightly.

Clara, with a fearsome yell, leapt onto his back...one arm locked around his neck, her left hand in his hair, pulling his head backwards, with a fist full of his locks.

"You bastard...they told me you were dead! And yet you're here...large as life. I'll fucking kill you myself."

He bashed the Doctor's head repeatedly against the floor.

Clara continued her onslaught, her fingers now pressed into his eyes, gouging.

"Get off him...leave him alone...Doctor...Doctor...!" She screamed.

Other hands came then, large and burly, pulling the man named Jack, backwards, from the prostrate Timelord.

Clara relinquished her grip and knelt at the Doctor's side.

"Are you okay? God, you're bleeding..."

The Doctor, held his jaw with his hand and wiggled it experimentally, wincing with pain. Blood trickled from his lip, and onto his chin.

"What did you do that for...?" Clara turned on the assailant, eyes blazing with anger.

Jack shoved off the hands holding him, roughly, and straightened himself.

"I swear to God, Frobisher...I'll kill you with my bare hands."

"Who?" Said Clara. " that's the Doctor...I don't know who you think he is...but he isn't!"

The Doctor hauled himself to his feet. Fingers still touching his lip.

"Well, that wasn't quite the welcome I expected!" He said.

 **Scene 4.**

They were led to a booth, away to one side, watched warily by the rather tetchy bouncers.

The three of them sat, Jack glaring at The Doctor. Clara glaring at Jack. The Doctor looking confused, between the two of them.

A waitress bought a tray of hyper-vodkas.

"Why did you attack him like that? ...you idiot...you could have killed him."

Clara was furious.

"It's no more than he deserves...I was told you were dead." Replied Jack, turning from her to The Doctor.

"I'm not sure who you THINK I am...but I can assure you, I am The Doctor." He said, holding a handkerchief to his mouth.

"You don't look anything like...hang on...YOU'RE the Doctor?...THE Doctor?...you've regenerated?"

"Twice." He replied, curtly, dabbing his lip.

"Wow!...Shit!...you got old."

"Well, I WAS young...then I got old...but strictly speaking..."

"Save it. I don't need to know." Jack replied.

He turned to Clara, eyes travelling lasciviously over her form, eyes twinkling...

"And is this feisty young lady your companion now?"

"I'm not his companion." Clara snapped. " I'm his...I mean, we are..."

"Really?" Jack laughed, "what you...and HIM? You mean you're..."

"Excuse me!" The Doctor interjected. "I am here you know."

"And don't even think about going there...Jack,"

He added, as Jack reached to take Clara's hand to kiss, withdrawing it again quickly...

"Or it'll be me killing you..."

"Ha! Good luck with that!" He laughed heartily.

He slugged back his drink, and picked up another...

"I think we should take this elsewhere." He said, looking from one to the other, then at the bouncers.

"Good idea. The Tardis is out back. Come on...and bring more alcohol!"

Together the trio moved through the throng, towards the double doors.

Jack stepped inside the Tardis. His fingers brushing the hand rail, lovingly.

He looked up and all around, memories springing up, happier times...

"You've redecorated." He remarked, " I don't like it."

The Doctor frowned angrily.

"Well I do! Except there aren't enough round things...I like the round things."

Jack smiled, half to himself, half to The Doctor.

What an oddball this regeneration appeared to be.

"So!" The Timelord continued, clapping his hands together, "Frobisher? ...spill the beans!"

"Look in the Tardis Archive...John Frobisher, Permanent Secretary to the Home Office. 2009. Earth."

Jacks voice was hoarse, full of emotion, unsteady.

Clara watched him intently, trying to read that expression.

She leaned in between him and the Doctor as they looked at the screen.

A picture of John Frobisher popped up.

Clara gave a sharp intake of breath.

"Oh my God! Doctor! He has your face! Just like Malcolm Tucker."

Jack and The Doctor exchanged glances.

"That's extremely interesting..."


	3. Chapter 3

A little light relief in this chapter...malt whiskey...memories...the Doctor has one over the eight...

Peter has said in interviews that The Doctor has realised that ' life is short' for season nine...so why not let his hair down? Live a little...just this once...

 **Scene 5**

With the Tardis on half power The Doctor managed to manoeuvre them into a static orbit around a small lifeless planet.

Jack wandered the console room listlessly.

Running his hands across the panels, gazing around him, as memories of so long ago continually flooded back.

"Do you remember when we all flew her?" He said, wistfully, as The Doctor appeared behind him.

"Yes." He replied, "it was hundreds of lifetimes ago. What have you been doing with yourself Jack?"

"Grieving." He snapped.

Clara looked up sharply, she still didn't quite trust this suave character.

"We're all grieving," retorted The Doctor, "one way or another."

"Yes...well, I lost Ianto. As far as my daughter is concerned, I'm a dead man, and I fried the brain of my Grandson. Not bad for a day's work."

"I lost my whole planet. All my family. I lost Rose. I've lost countless others. You don't get used to it, Jack, you just learn to carry on."

Clara moved across to him and took his hand, interlacing their fingers. Jack watched her with a sad smile.

"We needed you Doctor, when the 456 came back. We needed you, but you weren't there."

"I can't be everywhere, at any given day or month, no one ever could. As much as I would love to be. I've been there when I can, done what I can. I've made mistakes, Jack. We all have."

"What about this Frobisher? What happened to him Jack, tell us." Clara asked, she looked up into The Doctor's face, his lip still swollen and bruised.

"He was a gopher. A pawn in the game. A puppet, and they yanked his strings. Made him believe what he was doing was right. They ordered him to authorise my assassination, along with all those who knew anything about the 456 from 1965, and they pulled in my daughter, Alice and her son, Steven, holding them, pretty much for ransom, when they found they couldn't kill me. They played him like a fucking harp. Made him believe that giving the 456 the children they wanted, was the only way out...until they wanted his own children too."

Clara gasped.

"They were going to take his children? After telling him they'd be exempt?"

"Yes, told him it'd be an example to others, to see someone as trusted as he, hand his own kids over."

"Good God!" She whispered.

"What did he do?"

"They told me he shot them...he requisitioned a revolver, he shot his own girls and then his wife, then turned the gun on himself."

Clara put her hand up to her face, in anguish. The Doctor pulled her to his side, holding her.

Jack frowned.

"But he looked like you Doctor...why? How?"

"Let me show you something."

The Doctor tapped the keyboard, a picture of Malcolm faded into view.

Harkness stared, open mouthed...

"I don't get it, who is he?"

"He's Malcolm Tucker, a man who shouldn't have been where he was, but there he is! Working for the government, just enough power, put in place to do a job."

"What job?"

"To bring Nicola Murray into Number 10, because she will refuse to back a bill to allocate extra funding into disease research, and thus put in motion a chain of events that causes the deaths of millions."

"But Doctor, putting someone in place like that would cause time anomalies...alternate universes, fractured pathways...it could change the future...you'd need a transmat, or a Manipulator, to alter the course of time...some heavy stuff..."

"Exactly! But so far they've failed...because I stepped in. Took Malcolm's place. Put it right."

Clara, who had been computing all this information, suddenly piped up.

"So, John Frobisher might have been their first attempt? You said, Jack, that in 1965, the 456 offered you a flu cure, in exchange for the first 12 children? And that they released a deadly virus into Thames House, that killed everyone, including Ianto, when they were refused the second time?"

"What's your point?"

"Well, they seem to use disease as a weapon or a bargaining tool to achieve their aims. You were meant to have been taken out of the equation Jack, you were threatening them, they thought they'd killed you, but they failed. Then John Frobisher killed himself, so they didn't get what they wanted, you sent the radio signal that caused the 456 to withdraw...they must have been seriously pissed."

Jack looked at The Doctor and smiled.

"I like this girl...she's good!"

"Yeah, well, hands off...I found her first!"

"Er...When you two have finished comparing penis size...do you think we can focus?" Clara frowned.

The Doctor opened his mouth like a fish, then closed it again.

Jack laughed heartily.

"Yep, I like her!"

"So you think this could be the 456 again... And Malcolm Tucker was to be the instrument of their revenge?"

"It's possible. I think we need to find the 456. What do you think Clara?"

"Absolutely. We have to stop them...they may even have made previous attempts, that we don't yet know about."

The Timelord turned to Jack, regarding him closely,

"Jack. I know this is hard for you. But we could use your help. We'd make a good team."

"If it's a chance to finish this...Count me in." He replied, and gave a salute.

 **Scene 6**

Clara had gone to bed, leaving The Doctor and Jack to reminisce.

They sat opposite each other, a bottle of fine malt whiskey on the table between them.

Jack took a slug, sucking through his teeth as it burned.

"So...Clara?...that's surprising?" Jack said.

The Doctor shrugged.

"I love her. Just that. It's only just recently we've...well, we've..."

"It's okay, you don't have to paint a picture, I get the idea. It's just...I thought, after Rose..."

"Yeah...well, I thought that too, but I was miserable and lonely, and I don't do very well on my own. She's sacrificed a great deal for me, even stepping into my timeline. I know our time is short, relatively, but after millennia by myself, ten years...even one year, with her, would be worth it."

"What about a family? You could have one...with her. Human and Timelord DNA are compatible, aren't they?"

"Dunno, haven't thought about it...don't know if Clara has either, dunno if I'd want to be a father again...we haven't discussed it. Early days. Not sure it's the way to go. What about you?"

He drained his tumbler and poured them both some more.

"Oh, you know me, a girl in every port...or a boy...or anything really."

"What happened to Alonso?"

"We were together a while, then, you know how it is...he grew old, I didn't!"

The Doctor huffed.

"Well I know what that feels like!"

"Talking of old...what happened with you? I mean, Clara's what...30? How does that work exactly? What's your secret?"

"I've no idea, but she says she loves me too, and I believe her, she wants me, and she likes the way I look...No...Don't give me that look...it took me a while to get my head round it too...but now I have, and we're okay. It's good. It works. Mind you, she's a little control freak!"

They laughed and emptied their glasses again. Jack refilled them.

"So...Alice cut you off then?"

"Well, not surprising really. I took her son away from her and fucking sacrificed him. Doesn't exactly leave me top of the Christmas card list."

"I'm sorry Jack. Really I am. I don't know what else to say."

"I wish you'd turned up, Doctor. I kept thinking you would. It was such a hellish time. All the kids in the street chanting. The Cabinet sitting calmly discussing which children would be sent to the 456. That poor bastard Clement. It was just a bloody mess. You know, Frobisher wasn't really a bad man, he was manipulated just like the rest of us."

"And you lost Ianto."

"Yeah...still miss him too...and Gwen...she's got a new life now, and a family. Maybe I'll go back and see her one day. Maybe I won't. Too painful."

"Still got the vortex manipulator too I see..."

Jack waggled his wrist.

"Never go anywhere without it...useful bit of kit!"

He topped up the glasses again.

It was sometime later that Clara woke, to the sound of raucous singing...

 _"Ye'll tak the higgghh road...an I'll tak the loooowww road, an I'll be in Scotlannnndd afore yeee...me and ma true love will nevvvvver meet agin..."_

She sat up in bed, as the Doctor, lurched in, finger over his lips...

"Shhhhhh! Shhhhhh!"

He kicked the chair leg and almost fell over, cursing and holding his shin.

"DOCTOR! Are you...?"

He plonked himself, heavily and unceremoniously on the edge of the bed, and began the apparently difficult task of untying his bootlaces. It proved beyond him...

"Migh jusss leave these on..."

His accent had cranked up several notches...and appeared to be on 'Glaswegian Dock Worker' setting.

Clara watched, amused, as he hauled himself up again, and attempted to take off his trousers, over the top of the boots. The legs were far too narrow however. Predictably, he lost his balance, and came down with a crash...

"Shhhhhh! Shhhhhhh! Tu much noisssse!

"Doctor, forget the shushing, I'm awake. Well and truly awake. And YOU...are...wasted!"

He turned towards her, his head cocked to one side like a love struck labrador...his eyes trying to focus, from under those comical brows.

"I migh jussss," he made a vague gesture towards the door, "find somewhere else te sleeeep."

Pulling his trousers up again, he shambled off...hiccups jarring him as he did so, knocking his shoulder on the door jamb as he underestimated its width.

"Ow!...Bugger! Hue put tha therrree?"

Clara chuckled to herself, and lay down again...


	4. Chapter 4

The morning after the night before...

The Doctor, Captain Jack and Clara, have joined forces and are working together. But how to track down the 456...?

 **Scene 7.**

The shower water that morning was delicious.

Clara loved the showers on the Tardis. Huge tiled room, open boothed, mineral infused water, like a health spa...glorious.

She loved to stand still, head back, letting the flow pummel her body, tingling and invigorating.

She emerged, humming to herself. Dried her hair, dressed, and went in search of breakfast.

The sight that met her when she reached the kitchen, was, frankly, hilarious.

The Doctor, slumped over the sink...green around the gills...eyes red rimmed and barely able to open, with his split and bruised lip healing now, grey mop of hair standing to attention, he cut quite a figure.

Jack, was seated at the counter. Still in the same clothes. His arms were spread out in front of him, palms down, as if praying to Mecca, his forehead rested directly on the cold granite work surface.

"Morning all." She cried, breezily.

The reaction from both was instantaneous.

Jack winced, as the sound hit his head.

The Doctor groaned, and leaned into the sink again, trying to force down the urge to retch.

"Not so loud!" He pleaded.

"Well, look at you two boys! Who can't hold their liquor. Dear me! What a state!" Clara was enjoying this.

Jack raised his head, gingerly,

"How much did we have?" He moaned.

Clara clinked together an empty and another almost empty bottle.

"Quite a bit, by the looks of things. So...who's up for a nice fried breakfast?"

Jack's head hit the worktop again with a dull thud.

The Doctor lost his battle to view the contents of his insides.

It was some time before either man was anywhere near fully functioning. Much water and black coffee, dry toast, and paracetamol, consumed, to get them there.

To her credit, Clara ministered to them, both of them, played nursemaid, but all the while was highly amused.

One of the reasons she found it difficult to be annoyed, was that it had been such a revelation to see the Doctor like this...interacting in a normal, blokey way, not inhibited, not self conscious, just...being.

Having Jack there, had been a tonic...it had done him good. He'd got pissed...let go...relaxed.

She removed the cool flannel from his brow.

"Better?"

The Doctor nodded.

"Better. Thanks Clara. And Clara..."

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry!"

She planted a kiss on the uninjured corner of his mouth. Touched his cheek, a gentle caress.

"Don't be. I'm not angry. "

"You're not?" He looked at her quizzically.

"No. You had fun, Doctor. You are allowed to have fun. It's good."

"I'm not sure it was fun this morning." He said, running his hand across his head.

"Well, you're alright now. And we need to decide what to do next, with the 456 and all that. We need a plan."

"I'll have to check The Tardis is fully functioning again, shouldn't take more than a couple of hours. Less if Jack helps me."

"You two have quite a history then?"

"You could say that...he knew two of my previous selves...and he knew Rose."

Clara leaned forward and kissed him again, let it turn tender. He melted into her, a small sound coming from him, as their mouths worked on and against each other...

"Hah hum!" Jack cleared his throat.

They parted slowly, not phased by his presence...they both turned towards him, Clara smiled.

"Put her down, Doctor...we have work to do!"

 **Scene 8**.

 _Present day._

The Tardis materialised at a pre arranged spot, inside the inner courtyard of The Tower of London.

The Doctor, Clara and Jack were met by Kate Lethbridge-Stewart.

Once inside they repaired to an empty meeting room.

"Well, I'm not sure whether to shake your hand or arrest you."

Kate scrutinised Jack carefully.

"Kate, we both know, that would be a waste of time, and Jack is the one person we need right now."

The Doctor stretched out his long legs and crossed his feet. Kate addressed him,

"So, I didn't understand much of your call, how exactly can I assist you?"

"You can give us every bit of information, every file, everything you have on the 456."

Kate frowned.

"I thought Torchwood had all the information on that subject."

Jack scoffed...

"Torchwood is dead. No more. Gone. It was blown out of the water, literally. You know that."

A tray of coffee was bought in and set on the table.

"Did you know of the existence of John Frobisher?" Clara asked.

Kate frowned again.

"I've heard the name. I think Frobisher is dead, he killed himself, years ago."

"Yes, but have you seen a picture of him?" She pursued.

"Can't say as I have."

"I suggest Google...!" The Doctor remarked, sourly.

Kate watched, mesmerised as he began to plop sugar cubes into his coffee. 1...2...3...4...5...6...7, his hand paused over the basin, then he appeared to change his mind and begin stirring with the teaspoon nonchalantly.

He looked up, then from one face to another, as he realised they were all watching him, Clara was grinning, greatly amused.

"What?"

"Look him up Kate!" Jack said, breaking the spell.

Opening her laptop, she punched the keypad, and waited.

Slowly her eyebrows raised.

"Now do you see why we are here?" The Doctor sipped from his cup.

"And why the Tardis took us to the arse end of the Universe to find Jack?"

"But what does it mean? First Tucker...now...this?"

"My guess is, Frobisher had a function to fulfil for the 456, but he shot himself. Jack reversed the 456 signal and they didn't get what they wanted. Somewhere, out there..."

He gestured vaguely, "there are some really angry 456, bent on a little revenge, and some more child trafficking."

Clara shuddered involuntarily.

A uniformed officer entered with a file under one arm. Kate received it from him and handed it to Jack.

Inside were two or three pages of foolscap.

"Is this it?"

He passed the file to The Doctor, Clara leaned over him to look.

"Great!" Jack sighed. "So we know virtually nothing."

"You can probably add to the file Captain. You know more than us."

"But I know hardly anything! Only that they used the children for a recreational drug. It gave them pleasure. I know that Clement McDonald was rejected because he was on the cusp of puberty, and only pre-pubescent children would serve. I know the composition of the air they breathe, because Frobisher was instructed to build a holding tank for the 'Ambassador', at Thames House. I spoke to that ambassador myself. I know they have specific expertise in virology..."

"They promised an Influenza cure, didn't they? In 1965?" Clara glanced at the pages.

"Yes, the idea was it would save millions of lives...for the reward of twelve children."

"Yes, Captain...and you were involved in handing those original twelve over." Kate put down her cup, briskly.

Clara gasped...

"But Jack...I thought..."

""Well, you thought wrong...yes, I was Kate. The powers that be at the time thought it a good deal. We were promised the children would not be harmed."

Clara stood up, almost pushing over the chair...

"But they turned them into harvested zombies! " she cried, "existing, not living...I read the file...I saw the photograph...it's evil...it's, its..."

"Clara, this isn't helping." The Doctor said, softly, "Jack knows what he did, he doesn't need reminding."

"How can you sit there...all calm and rational...with...with...him?"

"Clara...!"

"But he's a monster...he...he...John Frobisher, he knew what was going to happen, they were actually prepared to accede to the 456 demands...a second time...that's why he killed his girls, then his wife and himself...because of YOU!"

She pointed to Jack.

Jack stood up, facing her, he was much taller but Clara held his gaze fiercely.

"And I did all I could to make amends, Clara. I saved Ianto's family and all the kids in his street, I took my own grandson...and I used him as a beacon, to fire the 456 frequency back at them...I fried his fucking brain Clara...my daughters child...so don't talk to me about fucking monsters...okay...don't you dare!"

Captain Jack Harkness slumped down in his seat. Arms on the table, head resting on them, tears flowing.

The hand that squeezed his shoulder by way of comfort and support belonged to The Doctor.

He spoke softly, in measured tones, his voice calm but with a quiver of emotion,

"How many times have I made similar decisions? How many have died as collateral damage? People I've befriended, people I've loved, cared about? For the greater good? In the name of peace. How often when we travel into danger am I terrified, something will happen to you? That I might lose you. Don't judge Jack so harshly Clara, without knowing that you judge me the same way."

Clara's eyes swam with tears,

"But you are a good man..."

"And so was John Frobisher, he was a good man. Jack is a good man, he has saved Earth from tragedy countless times, both with me as my previous selves, and with Torchwood. We can't always help as many people as we want to help, but we do our best."


	5. Chapter 5 scenes 910

The true nature of John Frobisher's predicament is beginning to become clear to him... Is he being used?

The newly formed 'gang of three' visit Kate at UNIT headquarters at the Tower of London...

The flashback scenes for Frobisher tally directly with the scenes from Children of The Earth, and my own take on Frobisher's character. I was keen to give an insight into how I thought he was feeling.

Facts about the 456 are sketchy, there is a great deal about them and their abilities that is not explained. I have, therefore, not attempted to do so, merely writing a version of events that may or may not be plausible.

 **Scene 9**.

 _Flashback_.

Events were spiralling out of control.

It proved impossible to kill Harkness. The assassination attempt failed. He just wouldn't die!

The young medic involved had been liquidated too. Another young and useful life ended.

When was this going to stop?

John Frobisher was a civil servant, he didn't sign up for this.

Murder and mayhem.

The Torchwood Hub was a smouldering hole in the ground. It was done on his say so.

Now he would have to pull in the daughter and grandson...keep them in custody, that would flush Harkness out of the woodwork.

Frobisher had come to the conclusion that Prime Minister Brian Green was nothing but a yes man. Only out to make sure he kept the voters happy at the front , whilst shafting them from behind.

He'd been so flattered to be given a key role in this affair.

Now he could see, he was being set up as a fall guy...the buck would stop just short of the leaders, the buck would stop with him.

Bridget Spears knew it, she'd said as much.

His wife knew something was up too. She'd seen how frightened he'd been the night before when he'd come home. He'd tried to appear normal, carefree, but it was all an act, and she knew it as well as he did.

Even his beloved girls, Holly and Lily, when he'd kissed them as they sat at the kitchen table, even they'd noticed that he didn't normally do that, it was unusual. He'd laughed it off, pretended he had to kiss them, in case he forgot what it felt like. But he saw Anna's face, saw how she looked at him.

She knew it was a lie.

She knew because he'd never lied to her before. Had he? Well maybe he had.

Once or twice.

He put his elbows on his desk. Head in his hands.

Why him?

Sitting around the meeting table, he'd tried to stay detached. As they discussed which children should be handed over, in return for avoiding total destruction.

Who could possibly make that decision?

Who could say whose child deserved to live and whose should be sacrificed. Thank God his own family would be safe. At least there was that.

None of their children would be chosen.

How did that make him feel?

Nauseous.

Knowing that only his position meant they were safe. How many of the children chosen might go on to make a huge difference in the world given the chance?

They'd never know.

It stank.

God. He was so weak. Why couldn't he stand up to them? Tell them where they could go. Tell them he wanted no more part of it.

Because he would lose everything. Everything he'd ever worked for. His job, his home, his wife...his children would be taken. They had the power to finish him.

What would be left?

Nothing.

 **Scene 10**

The Doctor, Clara and Jack returned to the Tardis. But it remained on the ground. At the UNIT Headquarters in The Tower.

"So, we've learned very little." Jack sighed.

"Clearly the 456 are trying to intervene again, put Earth on a path to destruction. Revenge. It's biological warfare, on a massive scale. Somehow we have to stop them."

"But why do it this way?" said Clara, " why not make their demands as they did before, then release the virus if they were refused?"

"I don't know." The Doctor frowned, " and I really hate not knowing."

"And why do I get the distinct impression, that if we are lucky enough to find them, they're not going to be open for a friendly chat?" Added Jack.

Just then the Tardis phone trilled.

It was Kate.

"There's something you need to see Doctor. We've been doing a bit of digging."

Moments later the three were gathered around a computer screen, in Kate's office, while she scrolled through various images.

"This is a painting of Jean Armand du Plessis...better known as Cardinal Richelieu."

"Oh, Lord," said Clara, "not another one!"

Kate continued.

"Around the time of his death, in 1642, the plague began to appear in Europe, it spread rapidly...culminating in the Great Plague of 1665, which swept this country. Hundreds of thousands died. "

"So we think the 456 may have visited Earth then, and asked for children, and were rebuffed."

Jack looked puzzled.

"But the previous times they came to Britain, said we were middle men, unimportant...this was France...so they could have visited anywhere in the world, not just us?"

The Doctor scowled, as Jack continued,

"How many times throughout history, might they have turned up? I mean, The Black Death...in Medieval times, springs to mind." He said. "Anytime, anywhere? Might their demands have been met, in the past, to make them go away?"

Clara spoke up.

"Just think how they would have been viewed, back then, like a manifestation of the Devil, or the wrath of God, the populace would have been confused, terrified...they wouldn't understand the concept of aliens. It would have been like the supernatural or witches or some deep religious superstition. I mean, I'm no historian, but wasn't there a Protestant faction that believed that the second coming, or Armageddon, would happen in 1666...because it was the number of the beast? What if the beast was actually the 456?"

"The Fifth Monarchists, they were called...You're right Clara." Kate replied.

The Doctor rubbed his temples,

"When I regenerated, I wondered where this face came from. It seemed familiar. I never really know you see. They just come. Now I think I may have some idea. These people don't have my face...I have theirs!"

"So you think there may have been others?" Clara was staring at him.

"Oh, I'm absolutely sure there were. Who knows, I may even have stepped in before, in previous incarnations, intervened, foiled them in some way. Like with Malcolm. I must have angered them in some way. This face was chosen for a specific purpose. As a direct response to the threat posed by the 456."

"I don't entirely agree...it could also be because you, as a Timelord, would be useful to them. They could be drawing you in. You are powerful in their eyes, more powerful than a human." Clara said.

The Doctor turned to Kate...

"Do you have footage from 2009? I'd like to see the moment 'The Ambassador' arrived at Thames House. I would also like to see what happened when the 456 signal was reversed by Jack."

"I'm sure we have news footage...I'll find it, it shouldn't take many minutes."

They watched the screen.

A column of fire poured from the sky, directly into Thames House and the pre built holding tank.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes.

There existed no footage of the signal reversal, but Kate pulled up eye witness statements, taken at the time.

Apparently a similar phenomenon was observed.

"This is where we need to be, Jack. Clara. Right there. At that moment. It would be incredibly dangerous, but if I could fly The Tardis directly into that column, we could trace it back to source."

"An orbiting ship do you think Doctor?"

"Unlikely, nothing was detected at the time. More likely their home planet."

"Thank you Kate." The Doctor turned towards her. "I think we've seen enough. Clara, Jack, I think we have our plan!"


	6. Chapter 6

Going back to the days following the culmination of their previous adventure. The Doctor and Clara are exploring...

The new adventure is just beginning as The Tardis is launched towards the 456 home planet...

With Scene 11, I was keen to write something which I have been sure about for some long time. The Doctor needs and much misses telepathic contact. It is part of his DNA, the fibre of his being, and he has been without it for so long. I wanted to try to get across what that emptiness would feel like, and how much it would mean to him to be able to communicate thus with Clara. I hope I have managed that. The scene will also be important later in the story...

Then, the three are on their way, whirled into the vortex towards the 456 home planet, where God knows what awaits them...

 **Scene 11**

 _Flashback_.

The days following Malcolm's return to his life, passed in a dreamy haze for Clara and The Doctor.

They remained together aboard the Tardis.

A certain degree of domesticity ensued.

Tea making, reading, cooking...

Formerly so stiff and awkward, The Doctor seemed, more at ease.

More content. Relaxed.

Sharing a bed, seemed to give him an inordinate amount of pleasure, not just from a sexual point of view, although that undoubtedly was a part of it, but from the simple enjoyment of being close.

Lying beside her, touching...her proximity, it gave him joy.

It was during these hours of repose that he began, slowly, to attempt to teach her the mental control necessary to form a stronger telepathic link.

She'd performed marvellously well, he'd assured her, the first time they'd made love.

He'd not expected her to be able to let him in at all, and he had so craved it.

So many hundreds of years had passed since he'd lost all link with his loved ones, it formed a void that he was unable to fill. His previous human companions were not with him long enough to forge that bond.

Clara was different, she was scattered throughout his timeline.

They had a past. She was as close to being a Timelord herself, as she could be.

Forming that connection, so powerful, was an inherent part of his culture, reaching another's mind was part and parcel of everyday Gallifreyan existence.

He missed it more than he could say.

He ached for it.

Clara was keen to learn. Eager to please him.

It choked him to see her earnest face, brow furrowed in concentration, as she tried to connect.

When The Doctor was kissing her, caressing her, when she was aroused, as she never had been with anyone so intensely before...then, she found it easier.

She could pass all her desires, her innermost feelings to him, in return she allowed his thoughts to wash over her, her mind open and receptive, all the rushing, brilliant cascade of colour and light, the deep attachment, it flowed through him and enveloped her.

For him it was completeness.

Sexual love for one such as himself, was only half the picture. It was like never experiencing a full orgasm, always ruined.

Yes, he could climax, but the joining of minds while performing the act, was the ultimate satisfaction.

Clara found it almost overwhelming.

Now, though, he was trying to teach her to link at a less intense level.

Not as they did when they made love, but when they simply had something to say, or wished to feel each other near.

Touching foreheads. Eyes closed.

Breathing gently, in...out...she had it then...she could hear him, feel his presence, but as he pulled away, she'd lose it.

Damn!

She was becoming frustrated.

"You're trying to push it too much, Clara. Just let it happen."

"Trying!"

Fingers to her temples this time, barely touching. Feather light.

Eyes closed again. Breathe. Concentrate.

She was aware of him pulling back, physically...then, a voice, in her head.

"Clara. I love you. Hear me Clara."

She gasped, and tears coursed down her face, although she wasn't really crying.

The Doctor was smiling.

"Come on." He said, "That's enough for today. You'll be exhausted from the effort. We'll try again tomorrow."

She sat back on her heels, with a sigh.

"I do so want to do this...for you." She whispered.

"I know Clara, and you are awesome. I can't believe you've even managed this much. Thank you. Thank you so much."

She took both his hands and held them tight.

"I'll get stronger. I will. I can do this. I know I can."

And she would. He had no doubt.

She wanted it as badly as he did.

She would improve, he could guide her, their bond was so strong now, she would learn. It would be like having another of his own species to communicate with, at last.

He turned away from her, trying to hide the emotion on his face, but she tugged at his hand in hers, turned him to face her,

"I heard you." She whispered, eyes wide. "You were thinking about talking like this to your wife...a long time ago."

He couldn't speak. Couldn't trust his voice.

Nodded. Squeezed her fingers.

One day, soon, they would be able to reach each other wherever they were.

 **Scene 12**

"The 456 thrive in an atmosphere made up of 25% nitrosyl chloride, 22% hydrogen chloride, 20% nitrogen, 12% fluorine, 9% hydrogen cyanide, 6% acetone, and 6% phosgene. It says so here, in Frobisher's notes. The 456 obviously contacted him directly."

Jack was busily tapping on the computer.

"We can't live in that. We'll have to wear suits. Breathing apparatus, helmets on at all times"

"It makes sense that they dealt with him, he was 'their' man. They even lied blatantly when he spoke with them. Not mentioning their previous visit."

The Doctor watched over his shoulder.

"We'll need a Plan B, as well as a plan A Doctor, I just can't see them agreeing to be nice friendly cuddly warm bunnies, I'm afraid."

"Thoughts?" The Doctor replied.

"Plenty," Jack turned," blowing them all sky high is my favourite."

"What about their labs, Jack? If we could destroy those?"

"They are vastly superior beings Doctor. They'd rebuild and restock in no time."

"Hmmm. I guess you're right."

"Doctor, this is going to be hellishly dangerous...Clara should stay here. You and I should do this together."

"Ha!" He laughed," I can just imagine her reaction to that! I don't think you know My Clara very well, Jack."

"Just sayin'!"

"Kate can provide us with anything we need. We're up against some serious technology here. They were able to mind control the whole of the population's children. Not to mention travelling to Earth from God knows where. But for all that, Doctor, they're nothing but bloody drug dealers, that's all they are, and we need to remember that."

It had taken most of the day to prepare themselves.

The Doctor could see Jack bringing various boxes and equipment, given him by UNIT, on board the Tardis. What the boxes contained, Jack hadn't had chance to discover.

He'd asked for certain items, he felt would be useful, but Kate hinted she'd included one or two 'added extras'.

He had the impression he was going to war, an uncomfortable position for him...

"I'm not a soldier Jack, I don't carry weapons. I'm not a fighter. Not really. It's against every principle I hold dear."

"Lucky you've got me here then!" Jack winked.

Clara had searched for, and found the orange suits, she and the Doctor had worn previously, plus another, for Jack.

Cumbersome but necessary.

Oxygen packs, med boxes, anything she thought might be useful.

The air crackled with expectation.

They were ready.

"Now, Old Girl," the Doctor spoke aloud, " this is going to be one hell of a ride. Don't let me down."

The Tardis hummed a response.

Slamming the lever, they lurched backwards in time, towards 2009, the Tardis held in a static position, staying just within shouting distance of Thames House.

As the fiery column appeared, heralding the arrival of the 456 Ambassador, The Doctor gave a yell, and swung into action.

His jaw was set, muscles tight. Eyes focused and blazing. Hearts pumping with adrenaline.

He moved around the console with fluid agility, jabbing buttons, working levers...flying the Tardis manually. Right into the heart of the flaming tube.

Sparks flew from the panels as the Time Machine whirled upwards into the vortex, spinning and spinning along the cylindrical funnel of fire, that composed the 456's transmat beam.

It lurched and tumbled, groaning and complaining as the Doctor fought to hold it on line.

"Come onnnnnnn...come onnnnnnnn!"

The Doctor roared, through gritted teeth, as Jack and Clara clung on for dear life.

For what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a few minutes, they barrelled, twisting and spiralling, until, with a final clunk and a toll like a death knell, they finally came to rest.

The Doctor stepped away from the console with a sigh.

"Well...we're here!"


	7. Chapter 7

The Doctor, Clara and Jack have arrived on the planet of the 456.

Jack disappears.

Moments later the Doctor and Clara are taken...someone has been expecting them...

We have a description of the 456 planet, which I see as being somewhat Mars like. The biosphere, in my head resembles the Eden Project domes in Cornwall, but on a larger scale.

What do the 456 want with them...?

 **Scene 13.**

A desolate, dusty, stony plain. Scattered with boulders and rocks, worn like jagged teeth by a ceaseless dry wind.

Waterless, airless. Grey and deserted.

Not a tree, or any form of life that could be seen. Only emptiness.

The sky above, acrid, dirty looking. Charcoal coated.

Clouds of vapour writhed and seethed. Steam venting from fissures in the ground at their feet.

Occasionally a geyser eruption, would puff momentarily, then die away.

Cratered and pock marked, pitted with past volcanic activity. Long chilled and solidified lava flows, forming flat pathways that meandered here and there.

A billowing mantle of yellow sulphur seeped toxically from the unseen depths.

Pungent. Acidic.

Distant purple mountains rose ahead of them, cone shaped summits, visible through the thin atmosphere.

Far away, on the horizon, a hazy golden sun blazed. It's heat could be felt through the suits.

Picking their way from where the Tardis landed they reached the edge of an escarpment.

Below them the vista opened out.

A vast city.

Tinted orange in the suns rays. It stretched further than the eye could see.

The contrast between where they stood and the opulence before them was marked.

Sparkling, glittering with a thousand points of light.

Enormous domes, made of many interlocking hexagons. Spires of silver like a metal cathedral, soared towards the sky.

Building upon building, majestic, beautiful, tall mirrored exteriors, reflecting the light.

Obelisks, dazzling and magnificent, pointed at the apex, thrusting upward.

Pod like dwelling places, opaque, misty, lined broad thoroughfares.

Small craft could be seen moving from block to block in the distance, floating effortlessly, as if suspended on wires.

The whole place shimmered like a desert mirage.

Under a huge biosphere, an oasis of green could be glimpsed, the twinkle of falling water, the movement of strange, exotic plants in the gentle breeze.

Controlled and managed, the interior a stark contrast to where they stood.

On the plain nothing moved, but the city hummed with life.

The three made their way gingerly down the steep slope towards the conurbation, carefully picking their way around the cracks and fractures in the planet's surface.

They had no real idea of how to enter the city, whether there would be gates, locks, barriers.

Was there military? Check points?

Only time would tell.

Jack strode ahead. The Doctor kept Clara close.

Nothing challenged them as yet.

There was not a creature in sight, as they came to the perimeter.

Then, seemingly from nowhere, amid a swirl of mist, came a disembodied voice...

"Welcome Doctor. We've been expecting you!"

 **Scene 14**

At the sound of the voice, The Doctor turned to Jack. To find him gone.  
His eyes tried to pierce the mist.  
He felt for Clara's hand and held it tight.  
The voice spoke again.  
"You will come with me, we are prepared for you."  
A slight prod in the small of his back, nudged the Doctor forwards. Clara stumbled beside him and he held her arm, helping her to keep up.  
The creature was large. From a glistening body, which looked vaguely reptilian, protruded three heads, each on a long outstretched neck.  
It resembled a plucked swan, each head with large piercing eyes.  
It's speech, clearly English, but this was not down to the Tardis translating, the creature had clearly done its homework on all the previous visits to Earth.  
They were herded onwards, into the city proper, passing along broad boulevards, lined with spectacular buildings.  
The Doctor barely had time to register what had happened to Jack. He shot Clara a warning glance, she read the mental message, and remained silent.

They reached the largest building.

The hub of the City.  
A heavy door was opened, which led into some kind of holding facility. Passing other doors both to the left and right, along a wide passageway, were glimpses of other beings, apparently working, in what looked like laboratories.

The building was vast. Labyrinthine.

Hundreds of similar cloister like walkways, all leading off in various directions.  
Finally, their corridor ended and they were pushed, rather roughly, into a spartan room.

Stark white, almost bare, apart from a bench like apparatus and table, on which were cups filled with clear liquid, that may or may not have been water.  
The door closed behind them with a swish.  
They were alone.  
The light in the room was bright, it almost hurt the eyes. Even through the visors of their helmets.  
The Doctor scanned every inch with his hawk like gaze.  
Clara moved instinctively, closer to him, still clutching his hand.  
A mellow voice penetrated the room from somewhere off to the side.  
"The atmosphere of this room is 78% Nitrogen 21% Oxygen plus trace elements. It is compatible to human and Timelord respiratory systems. It is carefully controlled. You are therefore free to remove your headgear."  
"How do we know to trust you?"  
The Doctor asked.  
"You don't." Replied the voice.  
They removed their helmets and laid them aside.  
"I've come here in peace. I mean you no harm, but I wish to speak with your leader, your king or the elected head of your people."  
The Doctor took a few steps towards the wall, looking up, trying to discover the origin of the sound.  
"We knew, you were coming. We are surprised it took you so long to find us." Came the reply.  
"How did you know?"  
"Oh Doctor, we have been awaiting your arrival for many eons. We prepared the way for you. It has taken millennia in Earth years, but that is a short time to us."  
"What do you mean, prepared the way for me?"  
"For one who considers himself in possession of a vastly superior mind, you are being remarkably slow. All will soon be revealed to you. In the meantime I suggest you rest yourselves."

The voice died away.

Several times The Doctor spoke into thin air, requesting audience with their leader.

But answer came there none.

Silence.

He huffed his frustration. Tried the door.

It would not yield.

"I am an idiot, Clara. I've walked straight into a trap...

your instinct at UNIT headquarters was spot on. They want to use me in some way."

"They won't hurt us though, not if we are useful." She replied, more in hope than conviction.

"I guess we'll soon find out." ...


	8. Chapter 8

The Doctor, Clara and Jack have landed on the 456 planet. The Doctor and Clara have been captured, but Jack escaped...

We are now getting to the nitty gritty of the Doctor and his face in this regeneration...I'm not sure what Steven Moffat will come up with...but this is my idea!

 **Scene 15**

From the moment they drew near to the city, Jack had been alert and wary.

Some sixth sense told him to be on his guard.

Walking at some distance from Clara and The Doctor, he looked about him constantly.

Seconds before the voice spoke, he dived away to the side, out of sight.

He lay inert, head down, not daring to breathe and watched helplessly as his friends were led away.

There was nothing he could do to prevent their being taken.

He would be far more help to them, he decided, if he were not captured alongside them.

Being careful not to be seen, he crept along a low wall, keeping to where the mist swirled at its thickest, until he was far enough away to stand up and run.

It was not easy to move quickly wearing the suit, but he did his best.

Making his way back towards the Tardis.

It was the safest place he could think of to be, while he considered his next move.

The difficult terrain made it hard to move fast but he could soon see the Blue Box in the distance.

Standing stark and lonely, just where it had landed.

He quickened his pace and, reaching the wooden door, used the key, the Doctor had given him before leaving UNIT, to enter.

Relief flooded him.

Once inside, he knew nothing could penetrate those doors.

"Well, Old Girl...looks like it's you and me now!" He said.

"Although God knows what we're going to do."

Some twenty minutes after returning, there were sounds outside.

Jack looked at the monitor. Surrounded by creatures, three headed, large, menacing.

Knowing nothing could get inside, did not stop him from feeling apprehensive.

Then he felt a lurch, and movement.

The Tardis was being loaded onto a transport and taken towards the city.

Jack smiled to himself. This was perfect.

He would be inside the city, without being detected. At no effort to himself. He would also have the considerable might of the Time Machine at his finger tips.

He began to make a recce.

There were bound to be several useful pieces of equipment here he could make very good use of.

Opening the boxes Kate Lethbridge-Stewart had given him, he took out all manner of 'goodies'.

State of the art breathing apparatus, small, light, with a power pack...why the bloody hell had they been poncing about in these damn suits, when they had these? He gave himself an eye roll.

Then delved deeper.

A small arsenal...

Numerous explosive charges, small, immensely powerful and easy to fix on or under surfaces, with a hand held palm pad, complete with programmable timer for delayed detonation. Sets of detonators, gas grenades, guns...he began to stow the things in a back pack.

It was like being back at Torchwood all over again.

A brief memory of Ianto Jones and Gwen flickered across his mind, and all they'd been through in 2009.

Yes, these bastards might just get what was coming to them. He would see to it.

At last, he had some clear idea of exactly what he was going to do.

 **Scene 16**

The Doctor waited impatiently, pacing.

He'd tried calling out a couple more times, but still only silence answered him.

Eventually he gave up and sat on the floor.

Clara curled beside him, under his arm.

"What are we going to do?"

"There's nothing we can do, except wait. I hate waiting!"

"Where did Jack go?" She whispered.

"Shh. Don't!"

He glanced up and around him. Then back at her...

Clara heard his voice in her head...

"Walls have ears!"

She nodded.

He smiled at her, eyes shining.

She reached up to kiss him when...

A sound from the left stopped them both in their tracks.

The Doctor stood up hurriedly. Walked towards it.

"Why are we being held here? I asked to speak to your leaders, your elders or whoever is in charge of your race."

"I am here." The voice was lower than previously, resonant, more menacing.

"So, finally you have found us Doctor. It has taken you a long time."

"A long time?"

"Many hundreds of Earth years ago, we sent our first clone, with your face, to do our work. Many more have been sent since. Some successful, some not."

"Successful?"

"Yes, successful in securing the children we need to satisfy our craving."

"That's why I'm here, to ask you to stop."

"No, Doctor. That is not why you are here. You are here because you were manipulated to be here."

"I don't understand."

"No. And I'm surprised you haven't worked it out. When you first regenerated, we felt sure you'd make the connection, you've clearly forgotten the Roman you once saved from a volcanic eruption, in one of your previous incarnations!"

The Doctor frowned, rubbing his head, trying to recall.

"Your regeneration has chosen this face as a direct response to our carefully placed clones.

That is why you have the face you have now."

"The faces are random."

"Now, Doctor, both you and I know that is not true."

"We have been unsuccessful, in securing fresh children, for some time now. Our clients are becoming restless. But now that you are here, all that will change."

"What do you mean?"

"You will help us Doctor. That is why you are here. You are now in a position of great authority on Earth. You are President. You are omnipotent. Governments, world leaders, they will all listen to you. You have the power to secure us the children we need."

The Doctor scoffed.

"I think you over estimate my power! Besides, if you seriously think I would ask the people of Earth to hand over so much as one single child, then you are very much mistaken."

"Oh, but you will Doctor. You will help us."

"What makes you so certain?" The Doctor crossed the room again, speaking to the empty wall, where he thought the voice appeared to emanate from.

"Because we have the ultimate bargaining tool. The surest incentive."

"What's that?"

"We have the human, to whom you have given your love."

With that, a beam of light came down into the room through the ceiling. Clara had just time to gasp, "Doctor."

Then she was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

The thoughts of Jack Harkness following the events in 2009.

The Doctor is now alone, Clara has been taken...what do the 456 want from him?...

The first scene is my thoughts as to what Jack might have gone through when The Children of the Earth was over, and what he has been doing in the interim.

The Doctor is finally becoming aware of his usefulness ...

 **Scene 17**

 _Flashback_.

Captain Jack Harkness pressed the button on the Vortex Manipulator. Gwen gave him a last wistful look then he was gone.

Where to?

He didn't know and he didn't much care.

Drifting aimlessly.

Nothing meant anything any more.

With Torchwood and with The Doctor, he felt he was fighting the fight. Saving the world...saving worlds.

Now everything just seemed like a sick joke. He'd lost one of the most important things to him. He'd lost his daughter.

She would never speak to him or have contact with him again. He had taken her son and destroyed him, and with Steven he had destroyed a part of himself.

The burden of immortality had never been greater.

He would have hundreds of lifetimes to think over his actions, he would never forgive himself. Never get over it.

He would live with it always.

So he wandered.

Without thought, without purpose.

Never stopping to rest, to think, in case it caught up with him, overtook him, plunged him into despair.

Throughout his long life, and many deaths, he'd always had a goal.

Now, nothing.

So he embarked upon a voyage of hedonistic pleasure, drinking and debauchery.

He took lover after lover, because being in someone's arms, whether it be male or female, or another species entirely, made him feel wanted, if only for a few short hours.

His time with Alonso had been the closest he'd come, to letting himself be lost in the moment, give in, forgive himself. But the feeling didn't last, and when they parted he was lost all over again.

Sometimes he drank, until he could no longer stand. Took drugs, anything, he didn't care,

It numbed him, made the pain less acute.

Except afterwards, when he came back down, the agony was increased two fold, and he'd need to do it again. Just to survive.

He travelled from place to place, never looking back, never setting down roots, just moving, moving constantly.

Always running. Just as he had run from the Boeshane Peninsula, place of his birth. Where he'd lost his brother.

All his fault. Just like Steven.

Running away.

Except he couldn't.

He couldn't forget. Couldn't escape.

Plagued by nightmares.

He missed Ianto.

Out of all his many lovers, male and female...and alien...Ianto had been different.

He was special, not just as part of their working relationship, but from the trust that was between them.

No matter what happened, he'd always been able to rely on him, always knew the bond between them. Friendship had come first.

Then love. Deep, true, complete. Love.

He recalled the first time they'd kissed. So awkward, so gauche, but so right.

The tenderness with which they'd made love, it never left him.

Never had he felt so isolated, so alone as he did now.

He couldn't really return to Earth, even if he wanted to. No one wanted him there.

Except maybe Gwen.

No. Gwen had a husband, a family. She didn't need the complication.

So he was doomed to meander, probably for all time.

Trying to forget. Days passing into years, into decades.

He would never be free.

 **Scene 18**

The Doctor sat, back against the wall.

Knees to his chest.

Arms hugging those knees.

"So...Doctor...are you ready to speak rationally now?"

He leaped to his feet, facing the direction of the voice.

"I will do nothing until you return the woman to me."

A mocking laughter filled the void.

"You are not in a position to bargain Doctor."

"You will be sent back to Earth. You will tell the World Leaders to hand over the children to us."

"I will not."

"Oh, but you will. You will be sent via our transmat portal. We have your ship, and it will remain here. To ensure your compliance. You will do as we command, or two things will happen."

"Two things?"

"If our demands are not met, we will release a viral strain which will devastate Earth's population. Hundreds of thousands will die. Do you want that on your conscience Doctor?"

"And if I do as you ask...how many children will you take this time? 10%? 20%?...and what's to stop you coming back, decades hence, for more?"

"Nothing whatever...but the Earth will not miss those numbers, it will soon recover, soon repopulate, that is one of the wonderful things about the Human Race."

"You said two things...? What is the other?"

"Why Doctor, I would have thought that was obvious...should you fail, you will be safe in the knowledge that the woman you love will be held here in permanent stasis, a half life, a slave existence. She will be kept alive...just, for our pleasure, she will be aware of what is happening to her, but she will be beyond help, beyond reach. Her life stretched far beyond its natural span, eons of pain and exquisite torture."

The Doctor held his head in his hands.

The physical pain of knowing that Clara could, as he stood there, already be going through this, was almost more than he could bear.

So he was faced with a stark choice.

Condemn the Earth's children to this life of misery, used as human drug factories, for centuries.

Unimaginable suffering.

Or live with the knowledge that Clara faced a worse fate, and he could do nothing to help her.

"What guarantees would I have, that if I did what you asked, you would return Clara to me?"

"Once you have completed your task, and we have the children we require, then the woman will be returned to you."

"I have your word?"

"You have our word."

"And you won't be back for more, in years to come...? These children will be your last batch, how do I know this will be the case?"

"Because we are working on a synthetic substitute, for the essence we extract from them, it is only a matter of time, before we succeed. These children will suffice until then."

The Doctor sat down on the floor again.

They were lying. He knew it.

He couldn't even consider these demands, could he?

Perhaps he could pretend to go along with the 456, then somehow rescue Clara...

But then, no Tardis, no escape. No way of knowing where she was.

If they sent him back to Earth, he wouldn't even be able to return for her, should they fail to keep their bargain.

Oh, and he did not trust them to do that...not for one moment...once he left that planet he'd never see Clara again.

He knew it.

But how to escape?

How to reach her?

He had to play for time, he needed to think.

The thought of Clara suffering was clouding his mind.

He must focus...

And where the HELL was Jack?


	10. Chapter 10

Clara finds herself in an impossible situation...

The place Clara is held captive, in my head is very like the Cat Kind Hospital in New New York. The 10th Doctor episode. The hidden 'catacombs' (no pun intended), where the cat nuns held their captive cure breeding programme. The next three chapters deal with each separate character...Clara first...

 **Scene 19**

Clara had no time to register anything but the shocked look on The Doctor's face, as the room faded before her.

Her stomach gave a lurch, as if riding The Big Dipper.

She shut her eyes tight.

When she dared to open them, she was somewhere else entirely.

A vast arena.

Filled with level upon level, floor upon floor of a myriad of small compartments.

She looked up, the tiers stretched above her head, so far, she could barely see the top.

Thousands, there must be thousands, all identical.

So this was where they kept them. Stored. As if on the shelves in IKEA.

Good God, these creatures were truly evil. Despicable.

"What are you going to do with me!"

No answer.

"If you hurt me, and The Doctor finds you, you'll be in serious trouble."

She tried to sound convincing. Her words fell on deaf ears.

Claw like hands held her, twisting around her wrists and ankles.

Tentacular. Gripping vices. Touching her. Stinging sensations.

Probed. Pierced. Abused.

Too many. Too strong.

She struggled, in vain. Wrenching at the restraining force.

A final jab registered pain, into her upper arm, a clear liquid.

She watched in horror as it slowly leached into her blood stream, helpless to stop it.

Falling, falling, everything misting before her.

"Doctor." She whispered.

No idea of a time span. No real feeling at all.

Her eyes opened.

A mask was clamped on her face, covering nose and mouth.

Panic rose at first as she felt she would surely suffocate, but as she fought to control herself, she realised she was not dying, but living.

Her mind was still sharp, but the rest of her was completely numb.

Nothing.

Neither arms nor legs. She couldn't move. At all.

Vaguely she was aware that she was wired up, tubes in...tubes out.

But she had no control. Of anything.

All around her were transparent walls. She could see out.

She was inside one of the compartments, on one of the levels.

Oh God.

How would anyone ever find her? In all those hundreds and hundreds of doors.

At that moment, she almost despaired. Almost lost it. Almost.

Some tiny part of her, stayed focused.

The Doctor would save her. Somehow. Someone would come.

She would not be abandoned. Forgotten.

He loved her. He would find a way.

She never doubted him. Not for a second.

Briefly she recalled, when they'd made love.

That sweet moment, it seemed an age ago now. That first time.

She closed her eyes, tears leaked out as the memory flooded her.

The intensity she felt when their foreheads touched. She'd never experienced anything like it, a true joining, a oneness. No previous lover had ever made her feel that way, only The Doctor. He made her feel complete, whole.

Every fibre of her being loved him, the attachment was deeper than anything she'd ever known, would ever know.

How he'd been so patient, trying to teach her afterwards, gentle telepathy, a tangible link.

His evident joy when she'd begun to take her first tentative steps, his face, when she'd heard him in her head for the first time without them being in contact. She'd never forget that look as long as she lived. Tears in his eyes, his eagerness, his proud admiration of her feeble efforts. His amazement.

She pushed the emotion down.

Now she was unable to vocalise and even if she could, who would hear her cries?

So she squeezed her eyes tighter. Think. Think Clara.

Regain control.

Her mind was the one part of her over which they had no sway.

She could utilise it. If she could just concentrate hard enough.

Use what he'd taught her. Open the channels.

Breathing deep and even. Relaxing as much as she possibly could.

Bending all her will, all her thought, to that feeling, the feeling of their foreheads touching.

Reaching out with her mind.

"Doctor. I'm here. Find me."


	11. Chapter 11

Jack Harkness is using all his considerable expertise to search for his friends...

A little of Jack's background and his exploration of his new environment...can he find his friends before it's too late?...this is Jack's scene

 **Scene 20**

This was where Captain Jack Harkness excelled.

Where he was most skilled.

Moving unseen, flitting from place to place. Finding back corridors, ventilation shafts, any surreptitious way of getting around without being noticed.

He'd spent whole lifetimes, taken part in so many conflicts, been behind enemy lines.

On so many occasions, through so many ages.

He'd been a Time Agent, espionage, deception, cons, they were second nature to him.

Know how to blend into the woodwork, be silent, stay hidden.

The Tardis stood in an unguarded room at the end of a series of corridors. It's potential clearly unrecognised by their captors. Without it's pilot, they considered it rendered useless.

No one bothered about the innocuous Blue Box.

It was empty. It was going nowhere. It was harmless.

That was to Jack's advantage.

On leaving it for the first time, his initial thought had been to find The Doctor, but he soon realised how easy it was to be confused by the miles and miles of identical corridors and passageways.

Each door he entered, each room he discovered, he became distracted by the potentially lethal concoctions he saw each time he snuck inside.

It was much easier to move from place to place wearing the breathing pack instead of the full suit.

Kate's box of delights had come up trumps.

Neat and compact. A thin mask with a strap on pack, the size of a first aid box. Simple and brilliant.

He had three. Clara and The Doctor would need them too, when he eventually found them.

WHEN he found them, and he would find them.

Corridor after corridor. Labyrinthine.

Jack devised a clever marking system, low down on the walls, out of sight.

Tally marks.

Soon he knew which passageways he'd explored, which he hadn't.

Early on he discovered the vast laboratories.

Stark clinical rooms. On a massive scale.

Workers like ants...or drones in a beehive. In rows. Each one testing, experimenting, concocting.

Technology some of the most advanced he'd seen.

An enormous drug factory...like an opium farm...the potential to harvest thousands.

He'd never seen anything like it. No wonder the 456 were so keen for more children.

They could probably process millions here, if they really wanted to.

Entering an area which resembled a health spa, he was horrified to see numerous of the creatures, laying side by side, on beds, each one connected to a child.

Bought there for the purpose.

A drug induced euphoria enveloped them.

The inert child, unseeing, dolefully staring into space, the 456 wired up, and wired out...high as a kite.

The disgust Jack felt, the rising anger, the horror of it all.

It was almost too much.

There were also virology rooms.

These were more tightly controlled. More difficult to sneak his way inside.

They couldn't risk these diseases getting out. One spill could wipe out a whole planet...

And there was his plan.

Right there.

He couldn't hope to destroy all of this complex, it was too enormous.

But he could blow these labs.

Even The Doctor had seen that potential.

The resulting bacteriological explosion would finish them all, every last one.

Just as it had killed everyone in Thames House that day, so long ago.

Just as he'd watched Ianto die, in his arms. The vision forever burned on his brain.

When the 456 had released the strain, it had taken less than ten minutes.

But there was nothing he could do right now, other than position the charges and set the detonators, until he found The Doctor and Clara.

Once they were safe, he could programme the detonation to activate on the given signal, he had the palm pilot for that, another of Kate's useful little presents.

No, he had to find them first, and set them free.

The 456 were never going to listen to The Doctor's overtures of peace. They had no intention of doing so.

It was a fool's errand.

Jack laid his explosives. In every drain, every shaft he could find, around the whole perimeter of the complex.

The resulting blast would take out the entire block. The bacteria would do the rest for him.

He moved silently, stealthily.

No one knew he was there. No one had seen him. He had the run of the whole place.

No one would be hunting for someone they didn't know existed.

He had the advantage.

He must take care not to lose it.


	12. Chapter 12

The Doctor is distraught, and alone...

Shut down to prevent melt down. The Doctor resorts to drastic measures...the third and final scene is the Doctor's.

 **Scene 21**

Theshock of Clara being beamed away, hit The Doctor like a punch to the gut.

He was winded.

He sank to his knees on the floor.

Shouting, kicking, pleading...all were ignored, nothing did any good.

No reply, no sound, just emptiness and silence answered him.

The thought of what might be happening to her was unbearable, so he tried not to think of it.

He'd been in dire situations before, many many times.

Rose had been taken from him on several occasions, in one way or another, and he'd loved her so much, he remembered all too clearly how that felt.

As much as he'd adored her, it didn't come close to how he felt about Clara.

Willingly he'd been able to give Rose to his human counterpart, knowing she'd be happy. Left her behind, able to continue without her.

His feelings for River, so powerful, so intense, but still he could detach himself. Move on.

He could never do that with Clara.

The sun and the moon and the stars were Clara.

That name was engraved on both his hearts. Forever.

His chest hurt. A constant dull ache.

Always so in control. But now...in danger of losing it.

He must shut himself down. Override the rising nausea and panic.

It was the only way his Timelord physiology would cope. He must deal with it. Remain dispassionate, rational.

Eventually he lay down on the floor, overwrought, exhausted, he curled into the foetal position and fell asleep.

Yes, unbelievably, he fell asleep...the Timelord who didn't need to sleep, closed his eyes, shut out everything, closed it all off...slumbered deeply.

He dreamed.

Gallifrey...orange sky, silver leafed trees, the mountains...beautiful, capped with white.

It was years since he'd imagined his own world. His own home.

Mostly when he slept, which wasn't often, and when he dreamed, which was less often still, he saw Earth...or the inside of the Tardis.

They were the places he saw himself, the places his subconscious took him to at times when he allowed his brain to relax.

Once, he'd dreamed of his home planet all the time, been able to pick up an echo, a stream of conscious thought, emanating from it.

Over the eons it had gradually faded, passed into distant memory, until eventually it disappeared altogether.

To be replaced with Planet Earth, the brief lives of those upon it, that touched his own life, they faded in, faded out.

Or, on board the Tardis. In the company of that sentient being, his protector, his guardian, his succour ...and yet...

...He was there, on Gallifrey...walking in the broad daylight, but it couldn't be...Clara was with him.

She was beside him, holding his hand, her little fingers clasped in his. He looked down and saw those huge, beautiful brown eyes, looking back at him...so expressive, so alive.

His hearts beat faster at the sight of her, his mind...reaching out to her...as he had when they'd made love, that first time.

The first time he'd made love to someone with both mind and body for as long as he could remember, feeling her passion, the deep bond that was forged.

The sheer utter joy of it, the bliss, the fulfilment, the culmination of everything he was, had ever been, right at that moment.

And yet he'd wanted more...he wanted to take her to his own home...his world...that was his dream.

To be there...with her beside him.

The Joining Ceremony, he yearned to share that with her.

Now, here they were, and he could.

Make the ultimate commitment.

He moved to embrace her, surround her in mind and body...

Yet...with a cry she was gone...snatched away from him...by some unseen force.

In the dream he screamed, cried out her name, wept, but it was all in silence, no sound came from his lips.

His voice was mute.

No one was there, no one answered, no one heard...

Running...he was running...from an unknown foe.

His only thought was if he could just turn a certain corner, he would be able to reach her. He could hear her calling him...

'Doctor!'... 'Doctor!'...she sounded desperate, close and yet far away.

Each time, as he ran, he thought himself within touching distance, but she seemed to retreat from him.

Just out of reach...always.

He was tiring, breathless, felt his lungs would burst. Her voice seemed to be fading...moving further and further into the distance.

He fell forwards, sprawling on the ground, and everything seemed to spiral upward, Gallifrey seemed to withdraw, melting, dissolving, even as he clutched at the very soil.

A voice reached him, tearing at his soul...

"Doctor. I'm here. Find me."

He woke with a cry, and a jolt. Cold sweat beaded his brow.

He was still curled on the tiled floor. In that white walled sanitised room.

Trapped. A prisoner.

He was alone.

He could still hear her. Distinctly. They were linked.

But she was lost.


	13. Chapter 13

Jack is still searching...finding the secrets of the 456, but where are the Doctor and Clara...

The description of the clone tank I liken in my head to Martha Jones in the episode The Sontaran Stratagem. She rises from the tank attached by an umbilical. It was a powerful image...

 **Scene 22**

Jack thought he'd searched everywhere. He was sure The Doctor and Clara would be held in this building. It seemed to be the hub of everything.

All the labs were here, there must be another block, another door, somewhere.

Damn it all!

He must have missed it.

Activity appeared to step up. Comings and goings...

He was in constant danger of discovery.

Hiding himself quietly, he watched.

Then he noticed...it seemed to be one way traffic, the creatures passed by his hiding place, but didn't return.

He waited his chance. Then slipped from doorway to doorway...sure enough there was another entrance. Well hidden.

Barely noticeable.

It opened at a word of command.

He would have to wait his chance.

It came after several minutes.

A momentary distraction, and he was through.

The room was colossal.

Lofty ceiling, more stark whiteness, another laboratory, but this time nothing much seemed to be happening.

Down on his hands and knees.

He crawled to a place where he could conceal himself, yet see what was going on.

At the end of the room, furthest from him, was an enormous ring.

It resembled a Ferris wheel.

Lights blinked around the periphery, the centre looked hazy and indistinct.

He recognised it for what it was.

It was a time portal.

Stepping through the ring transported the person to pre-arranged coordinates. Almost anywhere in the universe.

This was highly advanced technology.

So, this was how the 456 transported themselves, to and from Earth, or wherever they wished to travel. It could also be used to manipulate time, change futures, alter the course of history.

A well positioned clone could create a whole new world.

But it would leave traces in the fabric of space, visible cracks, fractures that could be detected.

The Doctor had known it, had followed one such fissure, when he'd replaced Malcolm Tucker. The Tardis had shown him both future possibilities.

Highly advanced, yes, but if misused, it could rip open the fabric of The Universe.

To his left were several large vats. Filled with what appeared to be amniotic fluid.

Pulling himself to the nearest tank, he peered inside.

Although the liquid was slightly opaque, he could clearly see the contents.

It was a man.

Humanoid.

With The Doctor's face. A perfect copy.

Joined by an umbilical cord, which disappeared from view, connected to an artificial placenta.

Jack fought a rising nausea.

He retched a couple of times, until he managed to control, and push down the urge.

Voices sounded near him and he was forced to retreat, and hide again.

So, if the strategy had been unsuccessful, and The Doctor had not come here, this would be the next clone to be sent to Earth, then there would be another, and another...until they lured him here.

But for what? What could they possibly want with him?

Jack had the distinct impression it was not because they wanted to make him King!

Without a second thought, Harkness swung himself up, pulling himself onto girders that soared across the arc of the ceiling. He set more charges.

He'd bring down the whole fucking roof.

The timers were locked, and, as before, would be released on the signal from his palm pad.

Once he set the frequency, the charges would be primed, and the timer would begin to count down, when he activated it. He would allow fifteen minutes.

He slid noiselessly back to the floor, and out into the corridor once more...

 **Scene 23**

Hour after hourexploring.

No rest. No sleep.

Now he more or less, knew his way around. STILL there was no sign of the Doctor or Clara.

Frustration. Anger.

Where the bloody hell were they?

The maze of passageways could still be confusing, but as he passed along, he still marked the walls, out of sight, but visible for him.

It was by accident that he found a Radio Frequency Room.

The 456 had broadcast a radio signal on the 456 wavelength, it earned them their name.

Jack knew all about this, had researched it from the Torchwood temporary hub.

Had used it against them, as a weapon, using Steven as a conduit, in 2009.

He could use it again.

If he could rig it to malfunction, no one would know it had been tampered with and it might cause a useful distraction.

A little jiggery-pokery with the wiring, and it was good to go.

He would just need to use his palm pilot to activate it.

Feeling very pleased with himself, he carried on his search for his friends.

He felt sure he was in the right area.

He'd looked almost everywhere else.

Then...a new corridor. No tally marks.

This had to be it.

It was then he came across the rows of metal doors.

Holding rooms with controllable environments.

At last he was getting warmer!

Punching his keycode, he activated his diversion.

Sirens wailed, the sound was deafening.

Then...bingo!

The Doctor's voice, accompanied by a hammering from the second door along.

Never had he been so relieved. He'd found them at last.

Breaking the heavy lock by firing his gun, the door swung slowly open, revealing the grim face of his friend...


	14. Chapter 14

At last Jack has found the Doctor, but he is alone, Clara is gone...

These next two scenes bring us nearer to the climax of the story...

 **Scene 24**

The 456 had obviously decided to leave him to stew in his own juices.

He'd asked for time to consider.

They'd 'graciously' given him one Earth hour.

He needed to get out of this bloody room.

He knew that outside the air was not compatible.

Even with Timelord respiratory bypass, he couldn't survive for long enough to get clear.

Just putting his helmet back on, or grabbing it would immediately alert them.

Could he persuade them that he was unwell? Make them open the door to help him?

Would that work? Unlikely.

He touched the sleeves of his jumper...then he realised.

The sleeves were long, came half way over his hands. Underneath, round his wrist...was the invisibility watch.

Bloody Great!

Not much use while locked in here. He couldn't just...vanish.

That would get him nowhere.

Once OUTSIDE maybe, then it might come in jolly handy...but now...not much good.

Sounds reached him from the other side of the door.

He moved towards it to listen.

There was a wailing noise, like a klaxon.

It echoed around the walls, as Jack activated his 456 radio frequency signal.

Sounds of chaos, could be heard.

Damn it all, he was stuck in here and could see nothing. He banged on the metal with his fists.

"Hey, what's going on out there?"

"Hey, open this door!"

As if at his command, a loud bang and the door began to swing open, with a rushing noise, slowly at first, as it was immensely heavy, then a masked face met his.

"Thank God you yelled, Doctor. I've been searching these bloody corridors for you for ages!"

"Oh boy, Jack, am I glad to see you! They've got Clara. We need to find her."

Jack, handed his friend a mask and breathing pack.

"Put this on, and get out of that wretched suit. Hurry Doctor, my signal will only keep them distracted for so long. We need to hide, and I've got just the place."

Together they sprinted out of the holding facility area, down passageway after passageway and into a disused hangar. Where the transport vehicles they'd seen floating above the city from a distance were housed.

"How the hell do you know where you're going?"

"Oh, I've had plenty of time to explore Doctor, I've gotten to know my way around quite well."

"Jack, I have to find Clara. She's in mortal danger. I can feel her."

"Don't worry Doctor, we'll find her. The Tardis is here too by the way."

"Good! We'll need The Old Girl, soon enough."

Jack ushered his friend into the empty loading bay.

"We'll be okay here. For a while. It's used mainly for maintenance.

None of the creatures are about. Anyway, they'll all be panicking and trying to find what set the frequency off. With luck they'll all have violent headaches!"

The two sat, side by side, backs leaning against the wall. Breathing hard.

"Thank God, you got me out of there Jack. I was going crazy."

 **Scene 25**

 _Flashback_

John Frobisher was frightened.

Genuinely frightened.

As he'd been as a child when he'd been separated from his mother in the supermarket aged five.

He thought he'd never see her again, and he'd been petrified.

Now, standing here, in front of the holding tank. That image popped into his head.

He'd never forgotten it.

The transparent walls of the tank didn't give much away.

Just a hint of a large body. Necks...three, heads...tick.

The atmosphere required for the creature to breathe, made the inside of the tank misty.

It swirled like a 1950's London fog.

Perhaps it was better that he couldn't see the thing properly.

He really didn't want to.

The first time they'd communicated, he'd exacted a condition.

No mention of the 456 previous visit...off the record.

Better for enacting diplomacy.

They'd agreed. He'd been surprised.

On that occasion only he and Dexter had been present. Once outside in the corridor, he'd slid down the wall, his legs would no longer hold him.

Now, however, they were not alone...now the world's leaders were listening in.

Although there were others in the room he felt very exposed, vulnerable, standing there.

Beside the tank.

Listening to the syrupy voice.

So in control. So manipulative. So sure of itself.

Frobisher was floundering. He was also a liar.

He knew it. The 456 knew it too.

Out of his depth. Way out of his comfort zone.

Was he hearing them correctly?

They wanted the children? How many?

It had been 12 before...he knew. A small sacrifice.

But now...now they wanted 10%.

10%? Were they serious?

How could they possibly accede to these kinds of demands.

The creature was angered. Slapped the wall of the tank in frustration. An acrid green fluid emitting from it.

The tank shuddered.

John stepped back, as if afraid it might somehow break free.

Was the creature high right now? Under the influence of the drug it was so keen to procure?

It was difficult to tell.

Back to Whitehall, to consider. Consider the inevitable. Backed into a corner.

No way back. No way out.

He watched the screen from the safety of The Cabinet Room , as Jack Harkness declared war.

Suddenly...

Thames House in lock down.

Everyone dying.

Nothing anyone could do.

Such power. Such omnipotence. Such evil.

And all for a hit. A high. A trip.

John Frobisher felt sick. Not for the first time.


	15. Chapter 15

The Doctor is finally free. He and Jack must now search for Clara...

 **Scene 26.**

Seated on the floor, side by side, The Doctor could see the weariness etched on Jack's face.

"You did good." He said quietly, turning towards him.

Harkness tried to smile in reply.

"I tell you Doctor, I've scoured this bloody building from top to bottom. It's a maze.

I found their transmit beam...except it's more than that...it's a Time portal."

"A Time portal? Yes...I think they mentioned it...they were going to send me back to Earth, Jack, the ultimate bargaining tool. That's my function here. Using my influence as President to procure them more children, the collateral being Clara. God, knows what they've done with her. But I know she's somewhere near. Every now and then, if I concentrate, I can hear her, just on the edge of my mind, calling to me."

"You taught her how to form a telepathic link?"

"Yes, and she's remarkably good at it, it's not as strong as another Gallifreyan would be, but it's there nevertheless. I keep sending her a message back. I only hope she can receive as well as she's managing to send out."

"So that was your usefulness to the 456...they must have been planning this for age upon age Doctor. I also found a clone, of you, ready to be sent out if the latest one failed. Your Malcolm Tucker must have been the last one, the next would be soon to follow. It's a devilish scheme, Doctor. I can't think of anything more evil."

"That's why we have to find Clara, and destroy this place."

"Your peace mission forgotten then?"

"I don't think these creatures are in a negotiating mood Jack. I also know there's nothing to stop them coming back for more children, despite what they told me. Not only do I not trust them with that, I don't trust them to return Clara either. I'm refuse to be their bargaining chip. We need to find her and then end it."

"And I'll be the one to do that Doctor. Not you. It's my task. The Tardis bought you to me, knew that I'd be needed. It is me who has to end it, not you. You have to carry on, not live with that...I'm past redemption, it doesn't matter for me any more."

"You can't go on punishing yourself for all time Jack. What happened, happened. You can't change it."

"No. But this might go towards making amends somehow. Might mean that they didn't die in vain, Clement, Frobisher...and Ianto."

"You loved him, didn't you?"

"Yes. I did. More than I might have cared to admit, even to him. It's hard to completely let go of your feelings when you can't die. You know you'll outlive them all, watch them grow old, they'll leave you eventually, it doesn't get any easier."

"My dear Jack...no one knows that better than me. How many have I loved and lost? Look at me now, I've thrown myself in the deep end yet again. Setting myself up for another fall. It's a constant pain, an ache that doesn't go away. But what can we do? I can't keep Clara for my lifetime, I know that, but I have to have her, for whatever time we've got. I love her so dearly. I tried to hold her at arms length, but it just made things worse, made me cherish her all the more. Its far too late now, we're in too deep, both of us. Just like you and Ianto. Love is a promise, Jack. All there is to it.

Now...If you've got your breath back, we should start searching for Clara, as soon as ever we can."

"No time like the present Doctor. I tell you, I've hunted all over this place, she must be where they keep the children. It's the only place I haven't discovered yet. I know it's not on this level, so it's either underground, or way up high somewhere. We'll start looking together."

"Right!" The Doctor scrambled to his feet. "Lead the way!"

Together they scoured the passages, hunting ostensibly for a disguised or hidden door.

Jack figured the 456 would want to keep this part of their operation as secret as possible.

As they explored more and more of the complex, the enormity of the task seemed overwhelming. Jack could see the Doctor becoming more and more frantic, as the minutes passed.

"Let's separate." He suggested, "We can cover more ground."

The Doctor frowned, reluctant. But acquiesced.

He immediately headed for the lower levels, maybe there was something there.

Jack went in the opposite direction. For him...up seemed to be the way to go.

After some ten minutes, he reached a dead end with a blank wall he had no recollection of.

He paused.

Taking a torch from his back pack, he flashed it across the space.

And there it was...an entrance, almost invisible in normal light.

The door was punch key activated. The keypad also hard to spot.

It was not guarded. Presumably because it was so well hidden, there was no need.

He took out his gun, fired into the mechanism and it sprung open with a pop.

No one challenged him. There was no one around.

The frequency he'd set off earlier, as his diversionary tactic, seemed to have pulled everyone to other parts of the complex.

Passing inside, he came to a gargantuan hangar like edifice.

His gaze moved upwards, mouth agape, astonished...

'Oh... My...God!'

Floor after floor, soared up and away from him, it was impossible to see how far it went.

Along each level, behind a rail, were vast numbers of compartments.

Booths, with transparent walls.

Inside each one there was a child.

Jack felt nausea, for the first time, since discovering the clone tanks.

He crossed silently to the booth nearest him and peered inside.

A pair of blue eyes gazed at him. Unseeing.

The face was a child's, but wizened, stretched. Emasculated.

A mask covered the lower portion of the visage, nose and mouth.

A feeding tube passed in, a waste tube out. Read outs monitored vital signs.

An intravenous line 'milked' the drug from the child's blood, which the 456 craved for their recreation.

An existence. Not a life.

Beyond help.

Jack was both furiously angry and horror struck. Tears stung his eyes.

Released from this hell, the child, he realised, would immediately perish. It's life span stretched far beyond the natural.

Arms and legs withered and useless. It would die before he could even release the tubes.

How could hope to free them all anyway?

There were hundreds and hundreds here...none could be saved.

He knew that now.

It was the moment Jack finally realised...

He could not effect a rescue. This would have to be a mercy genocide.

Like putting down a sick pet, to spare it further suffering.

It was down to him to do this.

He knew The Doctor would never be able to come to terms with it.

He looked about him in despair.

He must find Clara.

She must be here.

He would find her, release her, then return with more charges and detonators.

He would blow them all to Kingdom Come...


	16. Chapter 16

**Scene 27**

There was only a single creature overseeing the vast child repository.

One caretaker was all it took to monitor the highly advanced computer systems that created the environment to keep the children alive. It controlled temperature, air quality, vital signs, all at the press of a button.

A feeding tube passed directly into the gut, a waste tube coming out.

All carefully managed.

On a separate programme, keyed in, a youngster could be bought down when it was required for servicing one of the 456 manually, the poor unfortunate would be wired up to its host and 'milked' of the drug needed to provide that all important high.

It was barbaric. Cruel in the extreme.

The sheer scale of the operation was mind blowing.

Looking up, Jack knew he could search the floors for days, and not find Clara.

He didn't have days.

He made his decision.

He'd had more than enough of this place. It sickened him to the core.

These people were evil, and worse, they made others perpetrate evil in their name.

So far the Overseer wasn't aware of his presence...he was behind and to the left of it, out of earshot, concealed in the shadows.

He weighed up his options...try to sneak passed or take the creature on.

The latter was his choice.

The creature was taken completely by surprise...knocked sideways, as he launched himself at it, Harkness straddling it's body with his own, the gun pointed directly at the temple on one of its heads.

Adrenaline made Jack strong...fearless, this was an argument he had no concept of losing. Tiredness forgotten. Heart pumping.

His voice was menacing...the 456 was in no doubt of his intentions.

"Tell me where the Earth girl is, you piece of shit, or I'll fry your brain, just like my grandson's." He spat.

The creature writhed, but could not free itself.

"If you do as I ask, you get to live...agree?"

The creature nodded it's heads, then spoke.

"Fifth floor. Compartment Twenty-Six."

"A wise decision."

He relaxed his grip slightly, then fired...directly into the creature's skull. Splitting it asunder.

It groaned and fell away from him.

Dead.

"I lied." Jack said, and scrambled up, kicking the lifeless body aside.

Without giving it a second glance, he stepped onto a hover platform, which raised him smoothly and effortlessly upwards.

Jumping off after noting five, he began to run along the row of booths, counting as he went.

Reaching number twenty-six, he fired his gun again at the door locking mechanism.

It sparked and sprung open, like a huge freezer in a butcher's shop.

He found himself staring straight into Clara's big brown eyes.

She appeared at first to be in a trance like state...not unconscious but barely aware either.

He soon saw, however, that he was mistaken.

Those eyes, they were pleading.

She knew exactly what was happening to her.

It was written there in those earthy depths.

She was naked.

Her body had been pierced, violated cruelly, by the connections that both kept her alive, but held her inert.

He began the disconnect the tubes and wires that penetrated her, with trembling hands.

A tear leaked out from under her lashes as he worked to free her.

"Bastards! Bastards!" He whispered, half to himself, half to her, almost sobbing.

The tubes left wounds which oozed blood and serous fluid.

There was no chance to apply dressings or tend to her properly, Jack had no medical supplies in his back pack anyway.

She was bruised and punctured here and there over her nude body.

But Jack had no time to register embarrassment, either hers or his own.

"Clara! Clara! Baby, wake up, it's me, Jack. Clara, come back to me honey."

The face mask appeared almost glued to her skin, the seal tight, it was hellishly difficult to remove, without taking the skin with it.

He used water from his drinking flask to eventually release it, before fixing his own portable breathing mask he'd carried in it's place, strapping the pack to her waist and switching it on.

Talking to her all the while.

"Clara! Come on honey, come back. You're gonna be okay. Clara!...Clara!"

She did not respond.

Limp.

Paralysed by whatever the 456 had pumped into her.

As he broke the last of her fetters, she slumped forwards, and he caught her, letting her sink gently down.

"It's okay, honey I've got you. You're free. The Doctor will take care of you. You'll be okay now."

Taking off his long coat, he spread it beside her, then lifting her onto it, he wrapped her inside it, like a blanket, gently tucking it around her.

Not a sound did she make, not a whimper, but her eyes fluttered closed and she let go a deep sigh.

Harkness gathered her into his arms, her head lolling against his chest.

She was such a diddy little thing, light as a feather.

Leaving the scene of hell behind, he went in search of the Doctor.

It wasn't long before they met each other.

The Doctor was half walking, half running, his eyes almost closed, his finger tips resting against his temples.

Deep concentration. He looked half crazed. Desperate.

When he heard Jacks footsteps he opened his eyes wide.

"Jack!" He cried. " I've been trying to reach out to her, with my mind, I can hear her calling, Jack."

Only then, did he seem to realise she was there, in his arms.

His face changed, expression wide with fear...was she dead?

She looked so pale, so lifeless.

"Take her Doctor." Jack moved towards him. "Take her and get her to the Tardis. You know where it is. You need to hurry. We haven't much time. They'll be onto us soon. Closing in, we can't afford to be taken by them, if that happens we're finished."

"What are you going to do?"

"Take her, and run Doctor, don't look back, don't worry about me. I've got to finish this. Not you. This is my task. The Tardis knew it, I know it. Get Clara back there, get her safe. This whole place Doctor, the whole thing, it stinks to high heaven. I've seen it all now. I've seen what they do. It has to stop. I'm going to be the one that ends it. For Steven, for Ianto...and for that poor bastard Frobisher. It's pay back time."

His lip trembled with barely concealed emotion.

The Timelord took Clara into his embrace, holding her to him tenderly.

"This isn't over Jack. You have the Manipulator. Use it if you have to. Or I'll find you, the Tardis will lock onto the coordinates. I'll find you wherever you are. This is not goodbye. Okay?"

"Okay. Doctor. I'll be seeing you...and Doctor...thank you. Thank you for making me believe in myself again."

Jack touched the Doctor's coat sleeve, in a gesture of warmth.

The Timelord looked down at the hand. Then up at the man, lips pressed in a firm line, giving an expression of finality.

"À bientôt!"

He turned away then, and hitching Clara closer to him, he started to run.

He didn't glance back.

Didn't stop to think.

Jack watched until he'd rounded the corner, then hitching his back pack more comfortably on his shoulders, he made his way back the way he'd come...


	17. Chapter 17

**Scene 28**

As The Doctor hurried along, Clara clutched tightly to his chest, she began to revive.

Whimpering with obvious discomfort, she moved slightly in his grasp.

He stopped for a moment to adjust his hold on her, speaking softly, comforting her.

"Shhhhh! You're okay, My Clara, I've got you. Hold tight to me. We're going to the Tardis."

He could not risk being seen, he'd been lucky so far.

Wherever the creatures had gone, they'd soon be returning, once the radio frequency room had been repaired.

He knew that would only be a matter of time.

Nothing else mattered now but returning to his faithful Blue Box.

"Doctor. I'm here...find me."

Clara was still sending her message to his mind, still trying desperately to contact him, but she was weakening, he could feel it.

By the moment.

He had to get her safe.

He reached for the invisibility watch, pressed the button.

Because Clara was clinging to him, they both disappeared together.

Jack had told him to look out for his marks on the walls. They counted down in lines as he got closer and closer to the room where the Tardis had been abandoned.

Mercifully the door was unguarded.

Clicking his fingers as he ran towards it, the door sprung open and he stumbled inside.

Once he entered his ship there was no time for worrying about how Clara was.

Not just then.

Not at that moment.

Setting her down, he took off his coat spread it on the floor then laid her on it...no time, no time.

"Look after her." He cried, looking up towards the ceiling, invoking the sentient being that was the heart of the Tardis.

The 'Old Girl' hummed, and a beam of warm light enveloped Clara's inert form.

She stilled, quieted and curled herself, still wrapped in Jack's greatcoat.

Frantically he hurled himself around the console, switching on every connection, every button, as the Tardis sprang to life around him.

The Doctor punched in the coordinates of the Vortex Manipulator, which Harkness wore on his wrist.

oOo

Returning to the holding place for the Children of Earth, Jack laid the rest of his explosive devices. His original plan had been to blow the labs, release the viral contents. But now he realised, he had to destroy these poor innocents too.

Or leave them to die a slow death, unattended by their carers, once the bacteria hit and killed them all. The virus could not reach them, but no one would be left alive on the outside to care for them.

He looked up at the row upon row of compartments, each containing a miserable half life.

He could not dwell on what he was about to do.

He really didn't have a choice.

"Forgive me...Please." He whispered.

Then turned to leave.

Using the palm pilot, he punched in his key code. The red lights on the display flashed to green.

He now had fifteen minutes before the whole place blew sky high.

It was barely enough time.

If he ran hard, he could just make it back to the room where the Tardis was.

The Doctor would wait until the last possible moment, he knew.

God, he was weary! So bloody tired.

Slipping through one of the doors, it snapped shut behind him and he came face to face with several of the 456.

"Oh shit!"

There was no escape.

No point in trying.

A mellow voice he recognised spoke to him.

"I believe we've met before."

The sound was sickly sweet.

"I believe we have. Captain Jack Harkness, at your service." He growled...

"...Thames House. 2009. Earth. I thought my radio signal killed you."

"You thought incorrectly, I transported back. We thought you had been destroyed also...

Your plan was clever but it was thwarted."

"Takes more than a virus to finish me." Harkness laughed.

He held the gaze of the lead creature, defiantly, whilst he deftly secreted the palm pad into the back pocket of his trousers, out of sight, as he spoke again.

"You left empty handed. That was the main thing."

"That will not happen again. We have The Doctor. He will deliver us all the children we require."

Harkness laughed again.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, I think you'll find your bird has flown."

Jack glanced at his watch.

Ten minutes.

Confusion seemed to strike the aliens, they conversed with each other, in a strange tongue.

What they were saying, he could not understand, but he grasped that they were very angry.

They appeared to be communicating thoughts to others, in other parts of the complex.

"It would appear the Doctor has escaped. None of you will leave this planet alive, and he will not try to leave without his friends, he cannot go anywhere without his ship."

The creature moved towards him, Jack backed away, pulling his stun gun as he did so.

"You will be taken to our factory. You will be placed with the human female. The Doctor will come for you both."

"You're too late. The human woman isn't there either. I freed her myself."

"You are an extremely irritating member of your species, Captain Harkness. You and your Torchwood have been a constant annoyance."

"My Torchwood is no more. I work alone now. I like it better that way."

How much time now?

Five minutes.

Jack didn't have time to reach the Tardis now.

It was too late. He would be eviscerated with them all.

Well, he knew he couldn't die...somehow he would come back.

He knew that.

Christ! How many times had he died now!

It didn't get any easier.

Three minutes.

He just had to keep them talking.

He stepped back again, raising the gun slightly.

"So...did you enjoy my little diversionary tactic?"

"Ah! So you are the source of the radio frequency malfunction?"

"You'd better believe it!"

"You are clearly determined to anger us. I'm afraid it will bring about your swift demise."

"I'm counting on it."

"You would sacrifice yourself? You humans are remarkably stupid."

Two minutes.

"Oh, believe me, it's more than worth it. I have some old scores to settle with you. I lost people I loved. People who were close to me. And a man killed himself and his family because of you."

"You humans die...all the time. We offer your children a long life."

Jack laughed aloud.

"You offer them nothing. You take their lives away. You take away the essence of what makes them human. Laughter. Tears. Love. Hatred. Anger. Happiness. Everything. You are nothing more than fucking drug dealers. The lowest of the low."

One minute.

There were seconds remaining, Jack braced himself for death, yet again.

Only this time he actually felt good about it.

He was euphoric.

A smile playing on his lips.

This one would be a good death...


	18. Chapter 18

**Scene 29**

 _Flashback_.

Another hellish morning.

What sort of man had he become? John Frobisher hardly knew himself.

He'd seen footage of the poor man Clement McDonald, taken from the head cam of one of the UNIT operatives.

Screaming, like his head would explode. Blood coming from his ears, nose and mouth.

Watched as he sank to the floor at Gwen's feet.

Dead.

The awesome power of these creatures.

Nothing would stop them.

Brian Green had asked to see him. He no longer trusted that man.

His admiration for him long since faded. He was a toady.

Worse, he'd fashioned John in his own image.

What did Green want with him now anyway?

He'd carried out all the orders they'd thrown his way.

Done everything they'd asked. No questions.

He was just a Civil Servant.

He wasn't military, he wasn't a soldier, or a politician.

Just a suit.

Asked to perform tasks above and beyond his sphere.

There was nothing to do now except start the fake inoculation process.

No one would be any the wiser.

How on Earth would he live with himself?

He'd come up with the inoculation idea...a triumph, they'd told him.

What did that make him exactly?

An accessory to the enslavement of thousands of innocent children.

He knocked and entered the PM's office.

Green was at his desk, looking falsely distracted, writing a memo, pen scratching irritatingly.

He hardly remembered the conversation now, it was a blur...just a jumble of words.

Then he'd said it...calm, cold, detached, as if it didn't matter a jot.

As if he were reading a shopping list.

"You will send your own children for inoculation."

The words had stopped his heart. At first he thought he meant in a pretend way, and he almost breathed a sigh of relief.

But no, it was not pretend. It was real.

John Frobisher was being asked to voluntarily hand over his girls.

It would look good.

Be an example to others. There would be a camera crew.

Then he knew. Knew for certain.

He had been used. Completely. Utterly. Used.

It was the end.

The end of everything. He would never see another sunrise.

It was so clear in his head. Exactly how this day would end.

Nothing else mattered.

He left Green's office. Closed the door quietly behind him.

Crossed the vestibule and sank down onto the leather bench seat.

Bridget came towards him.

"I need a Requisition 31."

"What for Sir?"

"Requisition 31, thank you."

She turned, walked away, no protest.

Bridget procured him the requisition he required. She hadn't asked.

Had she guessed?

He didn't know. He didn't care.

Poor Bridget Spears, always ready to cover up for him.

So trusting, never ready to think badly of him. No matter what his failings, and there had been a few.

He held the box tight in the car on the way home.

His eyes barely focussed on the road ahead, or the view from the rear window.

He saw nothing.

His family were pleased to see him when he reached home.

Hugged and kissed him, as he sent them upstairs and asked them to wait.

Said he had a surprise for them.

His hands shook so much as he loaded the revolver, he could hardly manage.

He could hear their excited voices as he climbed the stairs, for the very last time.

Entered the room.

Closed the door very quietly behind him.

1...2...3 shots.

A pause.

Then one more.

 **Scene 30**

Vvvoorrrrppppp! Vvvvoooorrrrrrppppppp!

That sound.

It filled the room.

The Tardis materialising. Fading in and out, becoming more solid.

Door swinging open.

The Doctor standing, hand outstretched.

"JACK!"

Taking one last look at the 456 clustered there, in confusion.

He yelled...

"SEE YOU IN HELL! YOU FUCKERS!"

Grabbing the Doctors hand he was pulled inside.

Falling forwards onto his hands and knees.

Sprinting to the console, the Timelord, whirled them into oblivion.

Before they were engulfed in a ball of fire.

From the safety of space they watched, standing at the open Tardis door, as the planet below them convulsed.

Jack's detonations set off shock waves, that ripped through the volatile surface of the planet.

The seismic energy released caused earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, the fabric of the whole place began to fracture.

The explosive charges more powerful than anything he'd envisaged...Kate's weaponry certainly packed a punch.

The beautiful city below was crumbling, caving in.

Falling in on itself.

Destroyed. Utterly.

In the maelstrom, one person had almost been forgotten.

A groan from the coat on the floor bought them both back to reality.

"Clara!"

The Doctor was by her side in a moment.

Jack, however, remained where he was.

Silent.

His eyes never leaving the fiery destruction on the planet below.

Tears coursed down his face.

Lost in his own thoughts.

Clara screamed in pain. She was fully conscious now.

Everything hurt.

Where the tubes had punctured her body, they still bled, oozed fluid, her limbs heavy, her head on fire. Aching. Searing.

The Doctor cradled her, comforting her, holding her close.

Pressing fervent kisses to her brow. Smoothing back her damp hair.

Leaving Jack to his reverie, he gathered her up and carried her to the Tardis med bay.

Unwrapping her from Jack's coat with trembling fingers, as she winced, cried out, writhed away from his touch, trying to push his hands away, she wept and cringed, as he carefully peeled the encrusted fabric away from her naked form, lost in a fog of hateful dreams, where cruel sensations stabbed at her.

He looked to the walls around him, wildly.

"Help me!" He cried.

The Tardis thrummed a response.

A cupboard swung open.

Inside, ointments, salves, suture, healing bandages, everything he could need.

His deft fingers ministering, touching, soothing. All the while speaking softly to her.

Tender, gentle, loving.

"It's okay, you're okay now. You're safe Clara. I'm here. I'm with you. You'll be fine."

Eventually, as she was still so distressed, and did not seem to be calming, he pulled her closer, and pressed his forehead against hers.

"Pass it all to me Clara, let me share it. Ease the burden, ease your mind. Let me in Clara."

He knew how difficult the telepathy had been for her untrained mind, how exhausting, but he also knew how strong and determined she was. She had managed so much better than he'd ever imagined she could, especially when they'd made love, and then afterwards, he hadn't even expected her to be able to reach him from a distance, but she had, she'd done fantastically well.

She would again.

The rush of raw emotion hit him, right between the eyes, before he was fully prepared to receive it.

Terror. Abject terror.

Fighting the probing hands.

Good God! What had they done to her?

Had they tried to...no, he couldn't bring himself to think about it.

Abandonment.

Emptiness.

A stifling feeling of suffocation, of numbness. No feeling in body at all.

Complete paralysis.

Only the mind functioning.

Desperately reaching out...

"I'm here, Doctor. Find me."

Words repeated over and over.

Voiceless screaming.

So intense was the horror of what she had been through, it took all his own telepathic strength to countermand it.

Slowly, steadily, he bombarded her mind with his love.

Wrapping himself around her thoughts, chasing away the blackness with light and colour.

Filling her mind with images of them together, safety, warmth, oneness.

The effort exhausted him. Sweat beaded his brow. But he didn't stop.

Sobs...heaving, deep, wracking sobs, left her.

Her fingers clung to his coat.

He finally eased away, letting his mind gradually ebb from hers.

He lifted her. Carried her to his room.

Laid her delicately in the bed. Covered her.

Stroked her hair...hushed her...in minutes she was deeply asleep.


	19. Chapter 19

**Scene 31**

The Doctor wandered slowly back towards the console room.

Clara's fear and emotion still on the edge of his consciousness.

It affected him deeply.

She had been so afraid. So alone. And it was because she was with him.

How long would she be able to endure that? To make it worth staying with him?

She was strong, she was resourceful, but it wouldn't be long before it would eventually break her.

He knew.

He knew because as his bow-tie self, it had almost broken him, and he was infinitely stronger than any human.

Hadn't he known that falling in love would open him up to all this pain and doubt?

It was too late now.

Clara was seared onto his very soul.

Every fibre of his being yearned for her.

Being one with her mind, he had seen...seen how intensely his feelings were reciprocated. Through all the horror, there was never one tiny moment when she hadn't imagined him coming for her. Not one moment. Complete faith.

That was a powerful thing.

She trusted him implicitly, with her life.

He could never let her down.

Jack was nowhere to be seen, when he returned, but as he turned towards the stairs, he spotted him.

In the leather armchair, on the mezzanine.

He was slumped there. Head resting to one side.

His face read anguish. Streaked with dried tears. Not relaxed in repose, but strained.

He realised then, that since they'd arrived on the planet, Jack had barely slept.

No more than a cat nap.

He was completely wrung out. Emotionally and physically shattered.

He'd taken all the anguish on to himself, and the Doctor knew he'd done it to spare him.

All those lives, the children, the pain of it.

He'd have to learn to live with that all over again, somehow he would have to carry on, continue with a life that he knew couldn't end.

No respite and no relief.

With each regeneration a Timelord was reborn, and although memories were retained, it was a new start, a fresh face, a new life.

Jack did not have that luxury...he just continued...on and on...into eternity.

It was a sobering thought.

Finding a tartan rug from a shelf behind the chair, the Doctor covered him, tucking the edges around him, and placing a pillow under his head.

Instinctively Jack drew up his knees, curled himself into a ball, hugging himself, murmuring something unintelligible ...

The Doctor left him to rest.

God knows he needed it.

He guided the Tardis away from the 456 planet. Away from everything.

Just floating. Drifting.

While they all tried to mend as best they could.

 **Scene 32**

Hands folded neatly in his lap, the Doctor sat.

The Tardis providing a calming influence around him. Trying to surround him with an atmosphere of serenity, warmth, quiet.

He breathed slowly, in...out...in...out.

Doing his best to relax.

His eyes were closed. Sitting cross legged.

Meditate, rest the mind.

Suddenly he felt a soft brush on his left shoulder.

Her little hand touched his cheek, very gently.

Opening his eyes, looking up into hers, still weary, dulled, not bright and expressive as they usually were.

She came around in front of him and he uncrossed his limbs. He'd taken his boots off, just in socks.

She sat down on the floor, between his thighs, his legs either side of her.

She leaned back against his chest. Not speaking.

He encircled her with his arms, nuzzled her neck. Sighed deeply.

"Clara, my Clara." He murmured.

She turned sideways then, as a small child might, curling round, bringing her legs together and draping them over one of his. She buried her face into his woollen jumper, arms around his middle, threaded under his coat.

He stroked her hair, combing his fingers through it, with a tenderness, she had never felt before.

"You will heal Clara. It'll take time, but you will heal."

She still said nothing, a sniffling noise was all he heard.

"Shhhh! You're safe now. I'm here. I've got you."

"Doctor?"

"What is it?"

"I want to go home. Take me home. Please."

His hearts stilled.

"Oh God! She didn't want to do this anymore. She wanted her old life back. She'd had enough. This adventure had been too much. What they'd done to her, so horrific, so scarring. He hadn't expected her to leave him quite so quickly. Not now he'd finally really found her."

He hardly trusted his own voice, so broken.

"Whatever you want."


	20. Chapter 20

**Scene 33**

Jack was rested. If somewhat subdued.

He had taken to sitting by himself.

In silence.

Apart from everything, everyone.

Eventually he came to stand beside the Doctor, at the console, as he fiddled pointlessly with some connections, a conventional screwdriver in his hand, he spoke...

"Doctor...? I'm glad it's over. We succeeded. No children will ever be harvested by them again.

Finally I think I might actually be able to live with myself. Just."

"I'm glad Jack. Truly. "

"I think you should drop me...somewhere, anywhere...it doesn't much matter."

"No, Jack. I'm not going to do that."

"Why not? I don't want to stay on board, play gooseberry to you and Clara!"

"I'm taking Clara home, Jack. It's where she wants to be."

"What? You're not going to give up on her? Just like that. Are you a complete idiot?"

"I'm not giving up on her Jack. She's had enough. She as much as said so."

"Don't be daft. She just needs a little time at home, to recover...she needs you there with her Doctor. Trust me, she doesn't want you to just take her home and leave her there. She wants you to stay there with her. Give her time, give her love...just be with her, in her own environment, where there's no imminent dangers, no traumas, just a quiet normal existence."

Jack reached out a hand and squeezed the Doctor's shoulder.

"She loves you Doctor. And you love her. She's hurting, physically as well as mentally. Just give her a little respite from all this...this madness."

He waved his hands in a sweeping gesture, towards the Tardis.

"Give her cuddles, make love to her, be one with her. She'll mend. Yes, maybe she does need home...but she needs you more."

Jack could feel the Timelord's body tremble beneath his hand.

He pulled him into a tight hug.

Then held his face in his hands, gripping tightly.

"Stay with her Doctor. Just that. Stay. That's what she wants."

He stepped back.

"Now!" He said, recovering himself, "why won't you drop me off somewhere?"

"Because you need to go home too, Jack."

"I have no home."

"Your home is Earth...as much as any home could be. I'm taking you to Gwen. You need to see her. Talk to her. Tell her what we've done."

"No. Doctor. She has a life, she has Rhys, a family..."

"She's the one person, apart from me, who will understand, that you can talk to. About Ianto, about everything that's happened here. And you need that, Jack. You need it...

...If you want to disappear after that, then fine, but you need to speak to Gwen first."

Harkness sighed.

"Okay, I'll do what you want. On one condition."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows.

"That you take my advice in return. Spend some time on Earth. With Clara. No travelling, no drama, just be with her. Stay with her, walk with her, breathe her air, sit with her, read to her...anything...just...be! Okay?"

"Okay, Jack. I think I can do that."

"Good. Because that's what she needs right now. Trust me. Leaving her is the worst possible thing you can do. So don't...

...She's not okay, neither are you. You both need time."

The Doctor sniffed and turned away.

Clara came down the steps, a few moments later. Pale still, but rested.

"Hey! Jack."

"Hey yourself Baby-cakes!"

Clara saw the Doctor pull a face, and mouth 'baby-cakes?' from behind his back... She smiled.

The Tardis landed smoothly, a hundred yards from Gwen's house.

Standing in the doorway, Jack almost felt reluctant to leave, there was a finality about the parting, that he sought to delay.

Clara came to him and standing on tip-toe, she hugged him tight and kissed his cheek. Holding the embrace for several seconds.

She whispered into his neck,

"Thank you Jack. For everything. You know what I mean. Don't punish yourself anymore, what you did was right. Tell yourself that."

As they pulled away, she could see his eyes were swimming with tears.

"Don't let him out of your sight Clara. Whatever happens. He needs you, and you need him."

She stroked his forearms, smoothing the sleeves of his shirt.

They shared a little smile.

"You're a dear!" She whispered.

Jack gave a slight smile and a wink, then turned towards the Doctor...standing to one side, awkwardly, shuffling from foot to foot.

They stood and faced each other, almost the same height, eye to eye.

"It's time to move on, Jack. See Gwen. Talk to her. She's missed you, and she'll be glad to see you. Tell her what we've done. Tell her about the 456. Stay awhile...and keep that Manipulator with you. I have the coordinates...and if you're ever in need..."

"Thank you. Both of you. That means a lot...Well!...it's been a blast...you two...a blast, and if you ever require a drinking buddy Doctor, you come find me!"

The Timelord frowned, then grinned.

"Take care of yourself Jack. I'll be seeing you."

"You too Doctor. And don't forget what I said. Just 'be'...for a while at least."

He held himself erect, back straight, chest out and saluted.

The Doctor put his fingers to his temple in return.

Jack crossed the threshold and walked briskly away.

 **Scene 34**

 _One month after returning to Earth..._

Kate Lethbridge-Stewart marched purposefully up the front path and rang the doorbell.

Clara and the Doctor followed in her wake.

The door was opened, by a smartly dressed, newly retired lady of indeterminate age.

Bridget Spears, left the civil service after a long and distinguished career.

Kate introduced herself, then stepped back.

On seeing The Doctor, Mrs Spears' face blanched.

She staggered slightly and was caught and held by both Clara and Kate.

They helped her inside, sat her down. Clara went to the kitchen and made hot sweet tea.

"You?" She hissed..."But it can't be..."

"No, Mrs Spears, it isn't." The Doctor's voice was sympathetic and surprisingly soft.

Clara watched, as he reached and took her hand.

Something he only ever really did with her.

"I'm not him." The Doctor continued, his thumb sweeping across the back of her hand, "I just happen to have his face."

As she recovered from the shock, sipping the tea, Bridget Spears couldn't drag her eyes from the Doctor's.

"How is it possible?" She whispered.

"Its a long story." The Doctor smiled.

"I miss him you know." She said simply, "Even now. I still think of him often."

"You were a little in love with him I think?"

She smiled wistfully.

"Lots of people were. He was easy to love."

"He...(you)...was a very attractive man."

Clara grinned despite herself.

"He wasn't perfect, you understand...he had a weakness for pretty girls."

She glanced across at Clara.

"Nobody is perfect, Mrs Spears, but we all do our best."

"Which brings me to the reason for our visit." Said Kate briskly, perching on the sofa opposite.

"John Frobisher, should be remembered. The Doctor here has come up with an idea, and we thought you would be the perfect person to write a small piece. You probably knew him better than anyone, those closest to him are dead, but you knew him as well as any."

"An idea? To do with John?"

"The Doctor has helped set up a Charitable Trust. To be called The Frobisher Foundation. It will work with underprivileged and vulnerable children."

Bridget Spears stared open mouthed, from the Doctor, to Clara, then to Kate.

Her face began to tremble, eyes watering, a sob came from her.

The Doctor reached into his pocket and produced a large white handkerchief.

She took it, sniffing for a few moments, trying to regain her composure.

"John Frobisher was a good man." Said The Doctor kindly.

"It shouldn't be forgotten. He was." She reiterated, squeezing the Doctor's hand.

"Thank you." She murmured. "Thank you so much, he deserves this, and so do Anna, Holly and Lily. It should be in their memory too, they were innocents."

"I'm pleased you're pleased." The Doctor stood, smiling...

"Kate will leave you all the details necessary. I'm sure you'll do him proud."

They moved towards the door.

"When Mrs Lethbridge-Stewart rang to say she wanted to see me, I never thought my past would walk into my house. It's uncanny. The hair is a little longer, a little greyer, but otherwise...well, I can't get over it."

"Goodbye Doctor, I'm so glad it will be remembered...John Frobisher was a good man."


	21. Chapter 21

**Scene 35**

 _Ten days after returning to Earth._

Clara was aware of a crying sound. Someone was weeping.

She woke.

Her own flat, an orange glow on the wall from the street lamps, through the curtains.

Arms held her, her head against a skinny chest.

The tears were her own.

He was there. Her Doctor.

Beside her, surrounding her.

Taking her face in his hands, he pressed their foreheads together.

Images of falling water, a cascade, a smell of fresh rain.

She breathed deeply, letting the feeling wash over her. Cleansing, purifying, soothing.

He remained in place until she was calm.

Sinking into sleep once more.

Waking again, later, it was still dark.

She was alone in the bed, but she could hear movement, coming from the kitchen.

The rattle of cups. The kettle.

Drowsy, she waited.

Moments later he returned, with mugs of tea.

"I thought you'd be awake soon." He remarked.

Setting the cup on her bedside table, he climbed onto the bed beside her, on top of the duvet.

Propping himself on pillows against the headboard as he sipped from his own mug.

She sighed and curled against him.

Burrowed into his side, listening to the duel heartbeats.

All the previous week, since he returned with her to Earth, he barely left her side.

She slept a great deal, and that, he decided, was a good thing.

Heal from within.

The Tardis was in the corner of the living room.

But remained firmly locked, apart from mealtimes.

At first she almost seemed to skirt around him, keeping her distance.

He found himself watching her constantly, looking for any sign that she might need him closer.

He slept on the couch, leaving her room as her own private space.

A place to be alone with her thoughts if she required it.

Often he felt those thoughts, a jumble of confusion and pain. He wasn't sure that she was aware he was sharing them, he was scared to tell her.

Frankly, he was scared all round.

He didn't really know quite how to deal with her, it was new territory for him.

Tip-toeing around her, frightened to say too little...or too much.

What was the right thing to say? What did she wanted to hear?

He was terrified she'd come to the decision not to travel with him anymore, because he honestly didn't know if he could stay on Earth indefinitely, yet he could not contemplate going off and leaving her behind. He was torn...

The Tardis made soup. Kept them fed.

Neither left the flat.

Surprisingly he did not feel stir crazy, even after those initial days, where normally he would be champing at the bit, for excitement, freedom.

Instead he felt cocooned. Wrapped in a little bubble. Safe and content.

Just him and Clara.

The evening of the fifth day, curled side by side on the couch, he'd been reading aloud to her...

from Dickens' David Copperfield.

Her eyes were closed, head resting sleepily on his shoulder.

As he finished the chapter, and closed the book, she sat up, tugging at his arm.

"Come to bed." She whispered.

He looked down into her brown eyes, his own suddenly moist with tears.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure Doctor. I need you. Here..." She touched her chest over her heart, "and here." She put her hand to her head...

She still wanted him. The relief...it was overwhelming.

His hearts ached for her.

He picked her up, carried her. She giggled, but he was deadly serious.

Laid her gently down atop the covers.

Kissed her, slowly at first, then deeper, let it turn tender.

Should he touch her? What was the right thing to do or say now?

He began to weep.

"I love you, My Clara."

It was the best thing he could possibly have said. She yearned to hear it.

Despite his fears, he'd got it right.

She raised her head, although in the half light she couldn't really see his features properly.

"Thank you for being here. Doctor. I love you too."

He crawled into the bed beside her, held her to him, as close as he possibly could.

His body screamed at the touch, the intimacy of the moment, it made him tremble.

He needed her so desperately, with his mind he told her so.

Her mind replied,

"I know."

He spoke to her, softly...

"On the 456 planet...I dreamed we were on Gallifrey, together. When I was captured, and you'd been taken away. I never dream about Gallifrey. I never dream, come to that."

"You slept?"

"Yes...deeply. The dream was so strong. We were there for the Commitment Ceremony, the joining. I was so happy, the happiest I've been for longer than I can remember. Then you faded, and I lost you. You were calling, but I couldn't get to you. Couldn't reach you. It was horrible."

"I was calling you too. All the time. When I was in that booth thing. I didn't stop. I just yelled and yelled, with my mind. I imagined our foreheads touching, and I cried out for you."

"I heard you. We are connected Clara. Bonded. Here." He touched his own head. "And here." A hand to his chest.

"Always... Always...Gods, I wish I could take you to my home. I wish we could be joined there. Properly."

The admission was a stark realisation of the truth. It came out almost before he'd formed the thought.

"We can be joined Doctor. We don't need any ceremony."

"But I'd like something...something, official."

He sat up then, taking both her hands, holding them to his chest, against his hearts.

"Clara, will you be one with me? Keep to me? Join with me? Or marry me? If that's the way you express it here?"

As he spoke, anxious, tense, he slid half of the dual ring he always wore from his finger, and placed it onto the ring finger of her left hand.

It was a little large, but he held it there, bringing it to his lips and kissing it tenderly.

"Will you be mine Clara, as I am yours?"

"I will Doctor...I will."

Her eyes were shining.

She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him crushingly, hot tears against his face.

"That's all I want." He whispered, "Just you to be with me. Us together. We don't have to travel. Not if you don't want to. We don't have to do anything. I'll stay here till..."

"But I love to travel with you Doctor. We have all of time and space. We should enjoy it, make the most of it. While we can. Life is short. Everything ends, Doctor, but we have the now. That's what counts. The here and now. We should focus on that."

He smiled, but it was tinged with sadness.

Pulling herself up, from the bed, she padded through to the kitchen,

"Wait there..."

He could hear a chink of glass and the fridge opening.

She returned with a bottle of champagne and two flutes.

"I was given this for my birthday, I've been saving it for a special occasion. I guess this is it."

He took the bottle from her, with a smile, removed the wire cage and the foil, and, with deft fingers, popped the cork, the fizz bubbled into the glasses as he poured.

Clara picked up her flute and gestured him to do the same.

She clinked them together.

"To Us and the here and now!" She beamed.

"And all of Time and Space! " He replied.


End file.
